


Sleepless

by SomethingBlue221b



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Slow Burn, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2019-08-27 10:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16701139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingBlue221b/pseuds/SomethingBlue221b
Summary: Severus Snape can't sleep. Neither can Sirius Black.When Dumbledore orders them to share a bed for two weeks, revelations come to light.





	1. Slip

“Severus, both you and I know that you have difficulties sleeping,” Dumbledore stated. The man across from him shot him an irritated look.

  
“And you won’t let me take care of it myself anymore? I know what I’m doing, Albus. Let me be.”

  
“Normally, I would. However, with Voldemort’s return and the added stress, I want to ensure that you at least are sleeping well enough that you can handle whatever he throws at you.”

  
Snape’s face froze slightly at the mention of Voldemort. “I can handle it,” he muttered, his eyes flickering from Dumbledore’s gaze.

  
“I’m certain you can, but I would still like you to try this. Help out an old man who wants to help you.”

  
Something twisted in Snape’s eyes, and Dumbledore witnessed the fight leave Snape’s body. The quick submission alarmed Dumbledore. He had never met anyone more stubborn than a well-rested Snape. Reaffirmed in his decision, Dumbledore took a sip of tea.

  
“There is someone else who has struggled with nightmares and insomnia. I believe that letting you both sleep in the same bed would alleviate some of the affects and help both of you garner a few more hours of rest. If you are unhappy with the arrangement after two weeks, then you may stop. Until then, every night should be spent together.”

  
“Fine,” Severus hissed after a minute of contemplation, “I’ll give you your two weeks. But don’t expect anything more.”

  
“That’s all I’m asking, my dear boy.”

  
“Who is it?” Snape’s voice curled over the room, and Dumbledore felt his heart sink.

  
“Severus, before you get defensive, understand that the other person has already agreed to this. And I warned him that if he wrongs you in any way, I will ensure that the punishment is swift.”

  
“Who is it?” Snape repeated, his voice hardening. Dumbledore ran a hand through his beard.

  
“None other than Sirius Black, my dear boy.”

  
At times like these, Dumbledore was always impressed by how well Snape maintained control of his emotions. The only movement that signified his anger of shock was the slight pressing of his lips while his eyes remained stony and unreadable.

  
“No,” Snape put out bluntly. He moved to stand up. “This conversation is over.”

  
“Sit down,” Dumbledore ordered in his no-nonsense voice. Snape sat down. “I understand your hesitation, but understand this, this is something I need you to do. I will not allow Voldemort to take advantage of you because your mind is too sluggish after only an hour of sleep. I will not allow it.”

  
“So give me some sleeping potions, if you so worried,” Snape snarled. Dumbledore shook his head.

  
“And find you in a few months addicted and dependent? No. You agreed to the two weeks, and so it will happen. You don’t have to talk to him, you don’t even have to look at him, but I want both of you sleeping in the same bed. Consider me a fool if you’d like.”

  
“So you’re going to force me to do this then?” A darkness had overcome Snape’s face. “No wonder I don’t get any sleep, with two masters,” his tongue curling viciously around the word, “ordering me around.” Snape’s hands clenched the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white. Dumbledore regarded him sadly. The poor man was suffering, and it was entirely Dumbledore’s fault.

  
“Please, Severus.”

  
Snape sat silently for a minute, his breathing ragged. “Fine!” he suddenly shouted. “Fine.” His shoulders shuddered for a moment. Dumbledore wished he could comfort him but now wasn’t the time. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, silver necklace. The pendant showed a moon, and he handed it to Snape. Snape looked at it in disgust.

  
“It’s a portkey to Sirius’ room. Take hold the pendant and think of him, and you’ll be immediately transported to his quarters. I would like you to start tonight.” Severus stood up and twisted the necklace in his hand. He stared at Dumbledore for a moment, his expression unreadable. Dumbledore hoped he wasn’t making a severe mistake, but his gut told him otherwise. Whatever would happen would work itself out to help both of his broken boys. It would be hard at first, but he was certain it would end beneficially. All they had to do was work out thirty plus years of resentment and hatred towards each other.

  
Before Snape reached the door, he lifted the necklace around his neck and clasped it shut. He quickly tucked it under his shirt. Without looking back at Dumbledore, he quickly left the room.

  
Dumbledore sighed. “Well, that could have gone a lot worse.” Fawkes cawed in agreement.

* * *

  
Severus Snape wanted to be angry. He wanted to be livid over what Dumbledore had forced him into, furious over the fact that he had agreed to share a bed with Sirius Black. He wanted to rush back into Dumbledore’s office and object to his ludicrous idea. He wanted to do all of this, he knew he should do all of this, but he was just so…tired.

  
Exhaustion padded his mind, acting like a heavy anchor sinking into his subconscious. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept well. Certainly before the Dark Lord’s return, but then the days started to blur.

  
It wasn’t like he didn’t want to sleep. He really did. Those few hours of blackness and oblivion felt like salvation from the clattering in his head. Memories would dissipate and pain would fade, until, of course, the nightmares jerked him awake and left him more scared and agonized than before. Events would be replayed in his mind with startling vividness. The blood seemed bloodier, the corpses seemed colder, and the pain always cut deep and hard. It took him a while to recover, but once he did, any hope for more sleep was dashed. He felt lucky if he got more than a few hours.

  
That was, of course, if he could fall asleep at all. And usually, he couldn’t.

  
Maybe Dumbledore had a point. Maybe the crazy old man actually had stumbled upon some realization that would finally let him sleep. Or maybe the crazy old man was just a crazy old man intent on wreaking havoc in Severus’s life.

  
He didn’t know. He didn’t care. He needed to sleep.

  
But he couldn’t. Not tonight. The Dark Lord would surely call with pain that snaked up Severus’s arm, and he never slept when the Dark Lord called.

  
With a few hours remaining until nightfall, Severus stumbled to his room. He warily regarded the bed before turning to his cauldron. The Dark Lord had requested Mille Poenarum Noctibus, a fiendishly tricky concoction. It would take Severus the next few hours to finish the potion, and by then the Dark Lord would call.

* * *

  
Sirius Black stared at the clock. The clock stared back at him.

  
Sirius Black stared harder at the clock. The clock simply ticked along.

  
Sirius sighed, leaning back into the bed. It approached one o’clock and the greasy git had yet to show up. Dumbledore had assured Sirius that Snape had agreed, but now it looked like the man had bailed. Fucking coward, Sirius thought, turning around in bed. Sleep rarely came to him, but it didn’t stop him from trying. Every night, he would lie down and engage in a staring match with the clock, but nothing ever happened. He was stuck watching the clock, waiting for sleep that rarely came.

  
And now neither would Snape. Sirius shut his eyes. Sure, he wasn’t happy that Dumbledore’s choice was Snape. He hated that man, hated him since the moment he met him and would probably hate him until he died. It was just the way it was. So spending two weeks in bed with him wasn’t ideal. But so was not ever falling asleep, so Sirius was caught in a bind.

  
With great reluctance, Sirius had agreed to Dumbledore’s conditions. In two weeks, it would probably all be over anyway, so in his classic what the hell moments, Sirius just went for it. Of course, the man wouldn’t even be bothered to show up.

  
Sirius sat up in bed. He wanted a glass of water, but just as he was standing up, a thump reverberated through the room.

  
“Fuck,” he exclaimed, startled by the sudden figure standing in front of him. “Well, it took you long enough,” he muttered.

  
Snape just nodded. Sirius rolled his eyes and lay back down. “So we going to do this or not?”

  
No response.

  
“For fuck’s sake, you can talk to me.”

  
No response except for the sound of shuffling across the wooden floor. The bed dipped suddenly, and Sirius felt Snape lie down.

  
Sirius chuckled. “Well it looks like I finally got you into my bed.”

  
No response. No whipping insult. No angry comeback. Nothing.

  
Sirius sat up again, turned on the light, and looked over at Snape. “Shit,” he muttered, gazing at the man. Snape’s eyes were clenched tight, his lips a nearly invisible line, and worst of all, tremors wracked his hands. His chest rose and fell quickly, disrupted by haggard breaths. Sirius lifted a hand and pressed softly against Snape’s forehead. It wasn’t hot, so it couldn’t be a fever. Snape muttered something.

  
“Huh?” Sirius leaned in closer.

  
“Cruciatus,” Snape said again, his teeth clicking together on the last syllable. “Should…be…ov…over…in…thirty…thirty…minutes.”

  
Sirius sat back and stared at his sworn enemy reduced to a shuddering mess. It wasn’t right seeing Snape like this. Snape was cool and unflappable. He was controlled. Now, he seemed like none of that. He looked like a man in pain.

  
Cursing Dumbledore, Sirius laid down again. Snape was going to hate him for this, but Sirius didn’t know what else to do. He had little experience in dealing with the cruciatus curse, and none with helping Snape, but when he was little, Regulus often fell sick. To comfort his brother, Sirius would lie next to him and wrap his arms around Regulus's quivering and fevered frame. Then, he would hold on until the episode passed and Regulus stilled.

  
Repulsed at what he was about to do, Sirius scooted closer to Snape. His whole body shook with the aftermaths of the curse. Sirius reached out and lay an arm across Snape’s chest. He pulled himself against Snape’s tremoring form and lay his head down. He wanted to gag, but he felt Snape relax against him. Some of the tension eased from Snape’s body. His breathing had evened just a tiny bit. Whatever Sirius had done had helped.

  
Wrapped around Snape, Sirius lay there. The tremors slowly subsided and Snape’s breath evened out. Sirius could sense every movement of Snape’s, casting away their privacy. He eventually lost track of time. His head fell against Snape’s shoulder, and his arm rose and fell with every one of Snape’s breaths. He didn’t say anything, and neither did Snape. They just lay there together as a deep silence obscured the room.

  
At one point, Sirius shut his eyes. He could hear Snape’s heart pulsing, a monotonous pounding that filled Sirius’s consciousness.

  
When he opened his eyes, the heartbeat was gone. His head lay on nothing but a pillow. The spot next to him was empty except for a faint warmth. Sirius sat up slowly, blinking away the sleep from his eyes.

  
He sat like that for a moment before he realized his action. He was blinking away sleep! Sleep, the fickle mistresses that had abandoned him, had returned in the night. He had slept, and with a quick glance at the clock, he had slept for six hours! He wouldn’t even get six hours on a good night. This was cause for celebration! He should crack open the fire whiskey, and oh shit.

  
Sirius stilled. A gnawing feeling entered his gut. He put his head in his hand. He listed off some expletives. Of fucking course Dumbledore was right. Of fucking course, it had to be Snape. The only thing that could get him to sleep had to be that slimy Slytherin. He groaned and pulled at his hair. That slimy Slytherin had also suffered last night. He had been cruciatioed extensively because one go at the cruse wouldn’t leave someone a shaking mess. It had to be Voldemort.  
Sighing, Sirius stood up. He had all day to mull it over. And then he had a night to (hopefully) sleep it over in the fucking arms of Severus Snape.

  
For now, he would spend his time cursing Dumbledore.

* * *

Hi all! This story is a fun passion project I've had for a while, and I decided I might as well post it. I have a lot more of it written, but I can't make any promises about update speed. Regardless, I'll do my best and I hope you enjoy. 

 


	2. Drop the Game

A knock interrupted Dumbledore’s focus on a particularly interesting article in the Quibbler about a newfangled herb that exploded whenever someone sneezed. Glancing up, he called out for the person to enter. It was still rather early, so it could either be Minerva or…

“Ahh Severus, how are you this fine morning?”

Severus looked at him unamused. He walked up to the desk and sat down. He nodded curtly at Dumbledore. Dumbledore smiled back.

“If you have no interest in the morning, perhaps you can tell me about last night.”

For a brief moment, Severus diverted his eyes. “The Dark Lord called me last night,” Severus began and Dumbledore felt a sinking in his stomach. Voldemort did not act kindly towards Severus, and Dumbledore always worried whenever Severus had to spend time with him. “He’s intent on remaining hidden and unknown but he may try to influence the ministry. He has yet to divulge how.”

“Anything else?” Dumbledore inquired, and he swallowed as a ghost of pain flickered across Severus’s face.

“No, that’s all for now.” Severus crossed his hands in front of him.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Severus responded bluntly, showing that he wasn’t okay but he didn’t want Dumbledore prying. Dumbledore knew he should, but he also wanted to hear about the rest of the night.

Pushing the concerns aside, he asked, “Did you make it to Sirius’s?” Severus remained silent. Taking it as a yes, Dumbledore continued. “How was it?”

“Fine,” Snape responded.

“Did you get any sleep?”

“Some.”

“More than usual?”

Severus paused. “There were no nightmares.” The words fell off his tongue unbidden, but Dumbledore smiled when he heard them.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Severus nodded once. He stood up and went to the door.

“Will you go back tonight?” Dumbledore called out at him. Severus stopped to think for a moment.

“You said two weeks,” he answered before opening the door and leaving. Dumbledore gazed kindly at the place where Severus had just left. The poor boy had gone through hell, but he gladdened at the thought that his idea was working. Hopefully, the rest was reciprocal and Sirius had managed to sleep. He would have to stop by and ask. Regardless, the two men hadn’t torn each other apart on the first night, and Dumbledore was always thankful for small victories.

* * *

 

          The day passed quickly for Severus. Busied by his potions, reading, and grading of finals, he couldn’t spare a thought for whatever had happened last night. He only knew that it left him feeling rested like he hadn’t felt for months. He had managed to sleep and best of all, there were no nightmares. Usually, the aftermath of the cruciatus left him torn by nightmares his weakened mind couldn’t fend off.

            Dumbledore had stumbled across something, and as the clock struck nine and Severus reached for the silver pendant, he didn’t know whether to curse the old man or thank him.

            His hand paused before touching the necklace. Black had seen him weakened and in a state that few others had seen him in. Severus knew he would laugh at him. Old habits die hard, and Black never let go of an opportunity to tease and debase Severus. He shut his eyes and stilled his breathing. He wouldn’t let anything Black said get to him.

            With that thought entrenched his mind, he grabbed the necklace and thought of Black’s ugly face. He felt the familiar whoosh of a portkey and in a few seconds he landed in Black’s room. His landed gracefully, as opposed to the clunky fall last night. Then again, he had the cruciatus curse to blame for that.

            Black looked up from a book and stared at Snape. Snape stared back before quickly glancing around the room. To his surprise, everything was neatly put away. A dark wooden dresser filled a wall along with a bookcase stocked with a significant collection of books. Pictures hung on one wall, smiling faces winking out against the grey wall. Sirius’s bed, a large black thing with wooden posts, consumed the room.

            “What?” Black asked accusingly.

            Severus shook his head. “I thought your room would reflect your disheveled personality.”

            “Well, you don’t know anything about me.”

            “And neither do I want to,” Severus shot back. Sirius let out a small laugh.

            Black paused, looking like he was about to say something but decided against it. “You want to sit?” He gestured towards a chair facing his.

            Severus moved over to the chair and sat down. He glanced over at the table upon which sat various types of alcohol. “Ahh, there’s your personality Black.”

            Black grunted. “At least I know how to have fun. You want some?”

            “A glass of red wine if you would be so kind.” Black poured two glasses and handed one to Severus. Severus took a sip, his lips crinkling around the liquid. They sat silently, but Severus couldn’t help but notice Black fidgeting. Pressing his fingers against his temple, he sighed. “If you want to say something, just say it.”

            “This is really fucked up,” Black blurted out.

            “Really?” Severus responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I hadn’t noticed.”

            “Oh shut up.”

            “Classy, Black.”

            Black ran a hand across his face. “Dumbledore really wants us to do this without killing each other, but if you keep this up, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep that promise.”

            Severus laughed coldly. “I’m sure I can handle myself against a mutt like you.”

            “Yeah, like last night?” Black shot back. The words faltered on Severus’s tongue. Now Black would mock him, just like he did all those years ago at Hogwarts. Instead, Black’s voice took on a gentle tone, and Severus looked at him in surprise. “What the hell happened to you?”

            “It’s none of your business.” Severus couldn’t tell Black, he just couldn’t.

            “Maybe it’s not, but I spent the whole night with my arms around you so I deserve to know what happened,” Black said as his voice hardened.

            “Is it really so hard to figure it out, or does your mind work too slowly?”

            “Drop the act, Snape. There’s no one here to fool.” Black ran a hand through his hair. “What I fucking figured out is that Voldemort crucioed you. And I know that you only get that kind of aftereffect if you were put under many, many times. So what I haven’t figured out is why your beloved master is spending hours cruciating you, okay? So what the hell happened?”

            “He gets bored,” Severus whispered, his mind catching up after his words. He couldn’t go about telling Black everything that happened. He didn’t want Black to know anything, but saying those three words seemed to lift a weight off his back. He had kept his fear bundled up inside him, and to admit to a small fraction of it felt freeing. Severus scoffed. He was thinking too much into this, damn it.

            “Bored?” Black repeated, “Doesn’t he have world domination to plan?”

            Severus sat in silence, debating. He didn’t want to tell Black anything, yet at the same time, something inside him insisted he did. The silence stretched, and Severus sat torn inside his mind. He hated Black so the decision should be easy, but the feeling pestered him.

            Black watched him, and as the minutes passed, he leaned forward. “How about we set some ground rules for whatever Dumbledore has gotten us into? And rule #1 is that nothing leaves this room. On pain of death or whatever, anything you say to me and anything I happen to say to you remains in this room.”

            Severus regarded Black warily. “What if I tell you something horrible?”

            “Then I’ve got to live with it the rest of my life. Same goes for you.”

            “I don’t trust you.”

            Black laughed bitterly. “Well, I don’t trust you either, but what else can we do?”

            “Sit in silence?” Severus suggested coldly.

            “I did that for fifteen fucking years in Azkaban. I’m not doing it again.” Black extended his hand. Severus stared impassively at it for a moment. He reached out and grasped Black’s hand. “Fine,” he muttered, shaking Black’s hand. After a moment, they withdrew.

            Black laughed, causing Severus to wince slightly. “Dumbledore would be so proud knowing that we just shook hands. Last year, I was going to rip your arm off.”

            “The feeling was mutual,” Severus responded, relieved the laughter wasn’t directed at him. He felt shaky. The ground was unfamiliar. He was surprised trust remained in his dictionary.

Black sipped the wine.  “So you want to tell me what happened last night?”

Severus searched Black’s face for any signs of malice, and seeing none, he magnified that small voice inside him. He knew he would regret it, but isolation had gnawed at him for too long. He had to say something, and for a reason that baffled him, it would be the truth.

* * *

 

            Sirius didn’t know what to expect. Sure, Voldemort was a dick, but Sirius thought he was only a dick towards Gryffindors and muggles. Certainly not to his fellow creepy Slytherins. Last night had changed that view, and now Sirius wanted to know why. If it included being nice to someone like Snape, he would deal. Anyway, no one deserved to be crucioed for that long, including Snape.

            So when Snape opened his mouth, Sirius had no idea what he would say. He couldn’t ignore its importance, however. Something inside Sirius told him that Snape hadn’t told anyone else what he was about to reveal to Sirius. That made Sirius special, and he had no idea why.

            “He gets bored,” Snape began, the words clumsy and hesitant, “Especially since he’s hiding.”

            “So he takes it out on you?” Sirius prodded gently. Snape appeared unsure and ready to fall silent at any moment.

            “Sometimes. It depends on his mood, what he’s interested in. He varies, but he likes…” Snape’s voice hitched. Sirius’s hand tightened around the glass. Fuck.

            “He likes me,” Snape whispered, closing his eyes. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Sirius was so out of his league. Last night worked out way better than he expected, but how was he supposed to respond to the fact that Voldemort obsesses over Snape? Sirius gritted his teeth.

            “Why?” he asked, the word falling uncomfortably from his mouth. He didn’t like the new territory he had landed in head-first. “And don’t tell me it’s because of your ravishing good looks.” He wanted to smack himself. His awful sense of humor wasn’t going to help anyone here.

            He caught sight of a small smile quickly gracing Snape’s face, and the panic relieved. So the crony old bat had an awful sense of humor too. Maybe Sirius wouldn’t muddle the whole thing up.

            “No, Black. Though I know it’s hard to resist me,” he responded, glancing up at Sirius. His words didn’t contain their usual bite, but at the same time, there were some remnants of the banter that defined their relationship.

            “The only people who can’t resist you are the blind.”

            “Do you respond to every uncomfortable situation with bad humor?”

            “It’s what I’m best at,” Sirius jibed, winking. Amusement crossed Snape’s face. “See, it’s working.” He smiled cheekily.

            Snape brought a hand up to his head. “Maybe Dumbledore did make a mistake.”

            “Funny, that’s what my parents called me.”

            “Now you’re just reaching.”

            He thought for a moment. “Yeah, that was bad. I’ll give you that.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure we were at the part where Voldemort likes you.” Snape’s face instantly soured.

            “Why do you care?” Snape inquired bitterly.

            “Because I do, and Voldemort’s a dick. He fucked me over, and I care if he fucked you over too.”

            “Eloquent,” Snape snapped.

            “I’m known for my gift with words. But enough about me, why does he like you?”

            “He likes me because I don’t…” Snape suddenly slumped in the seat. He glanced up at Sirius, and Sirius could see the exhaustion etched onto the man’s ebony eyes. “It’s hard to make me scream. He likes the challenge. I’m used to most of what he does so he has to be creative.” The words tumbled from Snape’s mouth like the soda cans James and Sirius used to shake up and let explode. Snape’s confession had been buried deep, and even thought it came out painfully, it was exposing itself. Sirius happened to be the lucky bastard who heard all of it.

            “Creative?” Sirius asked before he could stop himself. Snape nodded slowly. “You can tell me if you want.”

            “Can’t,” Snape forced out. “Not yet. I can’t do it, please understand.”

            “Of course, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. It’s okay,” Sirius placated. It wasn’t okay though. This was really fucking bad. Snape had never said please to Sirius. He had never told Sirius that Voldemort did creative things to him that he couldn’t even talk about. The hard man Sirius used to know had disappeared and left someone hurting and open.

            There was one question Sirius needed answering, and he could barely keep the rage out of his voice.

            “Does Dumbledore know?”

            Snape glanced up at him alarmed. “You can’t tell him. You said everything I said stays here.”

            “I know, I’m not going to say anything. But does he know?”

            Snape shook his head. “I’ve never told him. He…worries too much as it is. He has to win a war. I can’t bother him with this.”

            The words punched a hole deep inside Sirius. Suddenly, Snape changed. The fear and softness had been shattered by a deep ridden bitterness and hatred. A hatred Sirius wasn’t entirely sure was directed at him.

            “You think I’m appalling, don’t you?” Snape snarled, “I can’t even take care of myself, can’t stand up to the Dark Lord. You can go laugh about it with your friends, I’m sure they’d think it’s hilarious…”

            “Shut up,” Sirius interrupted, and Snape did. “Shut up, shut up.”

            Something sick settled on Snape’s face. “I should have expected this. You’re still the bully you always were. Oh look at Snivellus…”

            “Listen to me,” Sirius ordered. “Shut up and listen to me. First of all, I’m not going to laugh about you. Secondly, I don’t think you’re appalling. I think you’re actually really fucking brave, okay? I doubt anyone else could do this. Thirdly, I understand. I know you don’t believe that, but Azkaban messed with me. It did bad things to me. Remus asks me about it, but I can’t bother him with it. He’s got enough going on in his life without me explaining how bad it got. I don’t need to make his life worse for him. So I understand. I understand why you can’t tell Dumbledore even though it would help you.”

            “So what?”

            “So what?” Sirius shouted, standing up. Snape winced beneath him. “So what? I think this is what Dumbledore wanted. We’re both fucked up, so maybe we can tell each other why.”

            “So this is supposed to be therapy? You’re not going to be my shrink, Black,” Snape sneered.

            “Well, lord knows I don’t need help from you.” Sirius took a deep breath. He sat back down. It was too late to go back now. “We need help. Can we at least agree with that?”

            “You might need help, but I can assure you, Black, I don’t need anything.”

Sirius glanced up at Snape, surprised at how quickly the man had replaced the walls that kept everything hidden.

            “You needed my help last night.”

            “I…” Snape faltered.

            “How long did he crucio you for?”

            “It doesn’t matter.”

            “I want to know.”

            Snape swallowed thickly, and Sirius could practically see the walls come down again.

            “An hour or so.”

            Sirius felt his breath leave him. A death eater had once crucioed him for a few minutes, and he felt like he would never escape the pain. He couldn’t even imagine lasting for more than ten minutes, let alone an hour

            “It wasn’t continuous,” Snape added, “And if you count, it’s not as bad as you’d think it’d be.”

            “Snape, I don’t think I could last thirty minutes. I didn’t think it was possible to last more than that.”

            “It’s not easy.”

            Sirius laughed humorously. “Jesus, of course it isn’t.” He paused for a moment, before deciding he might as well go for it. He needed to know. “When did you start screaming?”

            Snape met Sirius’s gaze. His eyes were sad and cool like a pond reflecting moonlight. “About thirty minutes in, I think. I lost track of time. And he took more breaks in the beginning.”

            Sirius really wanted to break every bone in Voldemort’s body. You really had to be a sick bastard to do shit like this.

            “And once he was done, you came to me.”

            Snape nodded. “It helped, you know, what you did last night. I hadn’t…” Snape’s brow furrowed and he let out a deep breath. His eyes bored into Sirius, and Sirius caught sight of the oddest thing. He could almost sense an innocence from Snape, which didn’t make sense. The man had seen thing most people couldn’t even imagine. How could Snape maintain any pretense of innocence? Yet, there it was. It was almost childlike, and it so open and fragile, it frightened Sirius that he might break it.

            “You hadn’t what?” Sirius asked gently. He had discovered something in Severus that he doubted anyone else knew about. He knew with a deepening certainty that whatever happened tonight would last much longer than two weeks. And of course, he thought ironically, it had to be Severus Snape.

            “I hadn’t been,” his voice broke off for a moment, “held like that for a long time. I…I can’t remember the last time.”

            Sirius stared at Snape for a long moment before standing up. Reaching out, he waited for Snape to grab his hand, which he did. Sirius led him to the bed, and before he could rethink his action and its consequences, he lay down. Snape followed his lead. He debated whether to pull Snape onto his chest, but decided instead to spoon him. That way he could wrap himself around Snape and hold him.

            Snape watched him warily. His face, smeared with exhaustion and that peculiar innocence, emitted confusion. Sirius gently turned Snape onto his side, and he pulled himself up next to him. Wrapping his arm around Snape’s waist, he pressed his forehead against the back of Snape’s neck and hooked an ankle underneath Snape’s. Snape’s breath hitched at the action, and with anyone else, Sirius would ascertain its sexual nature. Not with Snape, however. Not with someone who hadn’t been held like this for years. No, tonight they would just sleep.


	3. Of Frost, Of Storm

  _"Why, what's the matter,_

_That you have such a February face,_

_So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?"_

_William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing_

* * *

 

            Dumbledore hummed to himself. Sirius glanced up from the end of the table.

            “Do you want something?” Sirius asked.

            “These eggs are simply delicious. Do you add anything special to them?”

            “Salt and pepper, but that’s it.”

            “Regardless, color me impressed.”

            Sirius shifted in his seat as Dumbledore continued eating the tray of eggs. The room was empty except for them.

            “If you want to ask you can,” Sirius said, glancing up at Dumbledore.

            “Well then, how did you sleep?”

            “I slept,” Sirius responded. Dumbledore smiled.

            “So he’s helping?”

            “I guess. I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

            Dumbledore chuckled. “I’m sure it is. Severus has never been easy to understand.”

            “You can say that again,” Sirius muttered. Dumbledore started intently at Sirius, and Sirius was certain that he _knew_ everything that happened. The vivid blue eyes could see right through Sirius.

            “I’m glad to hear it working out. I expect you’ll see him tonight,” Dumbledore stated, waving his dish to the sink. Sirius nodded. “I must go. There’s supposedly a rather nasty boggart terrorizing some first years, and I’m supposed to take care of it. It’s unfortunate that the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was predisposed early this year. Have a good day, Sirius.”

            Sirius blinked and Dumbledore disappeared, apparated away to Hogwarts. Sirius yearned to do that himself, to see Harry, but he couldn’t leave the godforsaken house. As a wanted convict, he didn’t have the luxury of wandering around in the day.

            Instead, he would spend all day stuck, itching to get out. The only thing he had to look forward to was the night and Severus Snape.

            He laughed out loud at the thought. Less than two days ago, that thought would have never crossed his mind in his wildest dreams.

* * *

            Severus couldn’t breathe. Not since last night, not since he laid his heart bare for Black to witness. His walls had fallen and all it had taken were a few gentle words. He thought he was better than that, but when Black had looked at him and asked him those questions, he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stop it when Black led him to bed and wrapped himself around and held him throughout the night. At that point, Black could have asked anything from him, and he would have done it. He would have told him anything including his father.

            The thought terrified him. Two days, and now Severus couldn’t imagine not wanting to spend the night with Black. Dumbledore must have done something to him. A spell or a potion that manufactured a distorted sense of love possibly combined with verisetarum that prevented Severus from hiding the truth. If anything, that was it. Dumbledore, so intent on his experiment succeeding, that he had put a spell on Severus to ensure it would.  

            Trying to convince himself of that theory, Severus glanced at the clock. He had about thirty minutes until Black, and nothing left to do except brood. Unlike most other nights, he had the energy to brood. Whatever Dumbledore had intended had worked, and while Severus hesitated to admit, he slept well with Black.

            Nightmares had yet to plague him, he fell asleep quickly, and he slept for a previously inconceivable amount of times. Last night, he had even reached eight hours. He wanted to scorn the situation but couldn’t ignore how much it had helped.

Glancing up at the clock again and seeing that only a few minutes had passed, Severus shrugged and reached for the pendant. There was no point in waiting around. He might as well see Black and let the night progress as it will.

            Reassured by the fact that everything his insolent mouth said remained in Black’s bedroom, Severus reached up, grabbed the pendant and wished his location away.

            Opening his eyes, Severus viewed the now familiar room. Everything remained the same with Black curled up on the chair and reading a book. A glass of red wine sat next to him with another placed on the adjacent chair. Severus walked over and sat down, picking up the glass. Black continued to read.

            “ _Much Ado About Nothing_? I wouldn’t have thought you as the Shakespeare type.” Severus sipped his wine.

            Black glanced up, “Seeing as it’s just a bunch of dick jokes and stupid romances, I don’t see how you couldn’t.” He placed the book down, folding the page in to mark his spot. “I started reading him when I was eleven because my parents hated it. They wanted me to only read books by purebloods, so I decided to find as many muggle authors as I could.”

            Severus tilted his head. “My peers in Slytherin would mock me when I read Austen or Dickens or Hemmingway.”

            Black snorted. “You read Austen? And you think it’s weird that I like Shakespeare?”

            Severus scowled. “I quite like Austen. She’s more than just romance.”

            “But she is a hell of a lot of romance. Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy,” Black crooned, laughing softly. “I like Austen too, don’t worry. It’s just funny to imagine you engrossed in _Pride and Prejudice_ or _Emma_ or something like that. You look like you read depressing Russian literature.”

            “Well I do that too,” Severus huffed. Black smiled and ran a hand through his hair.

            “My teenage self would think I’m insane right now. Talking literature with Severus Snape.”

            “You’re not alone. My teenage self didn’t even think you could pick up a book, let alone read.”

            Black clutched his heart. “Oh fair mistress, your words harden like daggers pressing into my soul. No one else in fair London could recognize this agony. Oh fair mistress, take your gentle tongue and release me from this pain.”

            Severus rolled his eyes. “I stand corrected. Shakespeare fits you perfectly.”

            Black drank from his glass. “That’s how I got all the girls,” he said, winking.

            “Hmm?” Severus responded.

            “I would quote Shakespeare at them, and since most of them were purebloods or half-bloods, they hadn’t read him so they didn’t recognize it. Instead, they thought I was some romantic and lyrical genius. It never failed.” Black added proudly.

            “Oh,” Severus began, alarming Black at the downtrodden tone. “That’s who I should have quoted instead of my go to Orwell. I could never understand why they didn’t appreciate it when I whispered ‘Big Brother is watching you’ right before I tried to kiss them.”

            Black laughed loudly, startling Severus.

            Severus watched him, his eyes softening slightly. He knew he should hate Black, and he still did, but it was no longer that vicious malice that infiltrated every dialogue. It had changed, just like about everything else over the course of the past two days.

            “You’re not as bad as I thought you were,” Black said, the humor replaced by the same gentleness that had compelled Severus to confess last night.

            “Likewise.” The word stumbled in his mouth, but it came out and Black smiled softly in response.

            “Look at Snape getting all soft.”

            Severus scowled again. “Don’t worry, I still hate your guts. Just slightly less.”

            “Good to know,” Black responded, lifting his hands over his head and stretching. “You tried yet?”

            “I’m always tired, Black,” Severus shot back. The smile faded from Black’s face.

            “Yeah, I suppose you are. What is it, nightmares?”

            “Yes,” Severus responded bluntly. “And you?”

            Black tapped his head. “My stupid brain won’t even fall asleep.”

            “Did you have a similar problem in Azkaban or is it recent?” Severus asked, cursing at his interest. It would be best if their problems remained hidden from each other, but after last night, it wasn’t going to be an option.

            Black shut his eyes. “I guess Azkaban. I didn’t really, I guess you could say, exist in Azkaban. I would usually lie down and shut my eyes, but I didn’t…Have you ever completely lost track of time? Like for a week, you’d be hard-pressed to say if it was night or day?”

            “Yes, I have,” Severus responded, closing his eyes briefly as the memories surged. “I know the feeling.”

            “In the beginning, I would just sleep a lot, but as the years went by it became hard to know the difference from consciousness and unconsciousness.” Black’s breath caught on something. “I was just _there_ in Azkaban. And now, here, it’s hard for me get used to this. I try to sleep, but nothing happens. All the time, I’m so awake. It’s been two years since I got out, so shouldn’t this be easier?” Black’s voice turned sour at the end.

            “Nothing is ever easy for us.”

            Black laughed bitterly. “You can say that again.” He opened his eyes and peered closely at Severus. “What’re the nightmares about?”

            “They vary. Usually, it’s just memories.” Severus could feel the pain rippling beneath the surface of his mind, but he pushed it away.

            “So like stuff Voldemort has done?”

            Severus nodded curtly. “Usually.” Black ran a hand across his face.

            “He’s done some really bad shit to you, hasn’t he?” Black’s hand tightened around the glass of forgotten wine.

            Severus paused. Words failed him. Luckily, Black picked up on his thought.

            “Fuck, I always thought Voldemort took care of his own. If you were a death eater, then you were good with him unless if you betrayed him or messed up. It didn’t cross my mind that he would be hurting you like this. I thought he would want to torture muggles, not purebloods.”

            “I think you forgot that I serve a sadistic madman,” Severus responded, considering how much he wanted to tell Black. Black stared at him, his eyes dark and gentle, and Severus could feel the voice loudening inside him. “It’s not all what he’s done to me. Lot of the time, it’s what he’s made me do.”

            “Like what?”

            “What do you think?” Severus grimaced. His fingers twitched on the chair’s arm. Black remained quiet. His eyes flickered, and something passed over them that Severus couldn’t identify.

            “Why did you agree to join him?’ Black asked softly. The question held too many possibilities, too many avenues of error, and Severus could feel Black’s hesitance. Severus could feel himself freeze. He didn’t want to talk about this. He had never talked about this to anyone.

            Standing up, Severus glanced at the bed. “I think I’ve had enough conversation for tonight.”

            Black stared up at Severus, and for a moment, Black looked like he would agree. But then the stubborn mutt overrode his hesitance.

            “I haven’t. Sit down, Snape. I want to know why you joined him in the first place.”

            After a moment, Severus sat down. The words wouldn’t come; he didn’t think he could do this. He hoped Black would give up and let them go to bed.

            Black gave no indication that he would. Instead, he stared stubbornly at Severus. Frustration flickered across his face, before a realization struck him.

            “You’ve never told anyone before, have you? You don’t know what to say.”

            “I think we should go to bed, Black,” Severus placated, but it didn’t help. Instead, Black reached out and grabbed one of Severus’s hands. Severus stared down at the intrusion of his privacy and prepared to slap Black’s hand away. However, Black’s fingers wrapped around his own, and Severus felt something weaken in his mind. Black’s hand emitted a warmth, and his icy hand yearned for it.

            “You can take your time. We have all night,” Black offered, and Severus felt something start to shake inside of him. He was going to do it, the emotions had started to bubble to the surface. He bit his lip and slumped down in the chair. He hated his weakness, hated how Black could pry anything out of him. He wanted to scream, but instead, his mouth betrayed him.

            “I was…young and desperate and lonely. I was in a bad place.” The words fell out of his mouth in a shameful confession. Black had been beloved as a teenager, and Severus had never shared in any of that comfort.

             “I needed something, someone, anyone who would believe in me. Tell me that I was worth something. Even if it wasn’t much, I just needed to know that I wasn’t…” Severus choked on the words tumbling out of his mouth. He had lost control and reviled himself for that. His position didn’t enable to yield his heart like this, but he found he couldn’t stop.

            He took a deep breath to stabilize himself, avoiding Black’s earnest eyes. “He did that. He saw how much I was hurting, how far I would be willing to go to feel valued. I didn’t take much to make me fall for him” Severus’s hand tightened around Black’s. “Once I had the mark, it was too late to reconsider.” The pressure in his chest slightly released, and he tried to untangle his hand from Black’s. Black wouldn’t let go, so he abandoned his efforts.

            Severus, who was usually so comfortable in silence, grew anxious when Black didn't to respond. Fears over what he had done crashed over him. He had willingly handed Black weapons that could sear the parts of himself he held hidden deep inside. He had exposed himself, and now he could do nothing but bite his tongue and keep his gaze firmly away from Black.

            “It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Black inquired painfully, breaking the silence that had fallen thickly in the room. Severus startled at the question.

            “No, don’t put the blame of my action onto you. I chose to take the Dark Mark, not you,” Severus assuaged, even though he could feel the bitterness rising up in him.

            “If I wasn’t such a dick to you at Hogwarts, you might not have felt like you needed Voldemort,” Sirius began. He brought his hand up to his face, and the level of self-loathing in his voice surprised Severus. He had never thought Black beyond his typical arrogance and nonchalance.

            “Don’t be so conceited, Black. I don’t decide my life around you,” Severus stated, hoping to shift Black’s self-hatred into hatred directed at him. Black shook his head.

            “But it was me and James, wasn’t it?” Black asked despairingly. For a brief moment, Severus almost wanted to laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation. He had never seen Black wrapped up in guilt and self-hatred before, and it didn’t befit him.

            “No,” Severus insisted. Black looked at him in disbelief.

            “You don’t need to lie to me,” he spat out.

            “I’m not,” Severus stated, surprised at the sincerity of his words. “Sure, you and Potter certainly lent a hand. I can’t deny that. You exacerbated an already horrible situation, but you _didn’t_ create the horrible situation. There were many other forces acting on me at the time, many of them much worse than you could ever hope to be. Listen to me, Black.” He reached to grab Black’s other hand and intertwined their fingers. “It will never be your fault for what I did. You will never bear the responsibilities for my choices. Do you understand?”

            Black drew in a shuddering breath. “I had a lot of time to think in Azkaban. Too much time. I came to regret a lot of the stuff I had done. I should have killed Pettigrew when I had the chance. I should have protected James and Lily. I should have been there for Harry. I should have helpeRegulusus. I shouldn’t have done the shit I did to you.” He paused and breathed heavily. “Lying there day after day, year after year, I came to hate myself for it. I’ve never hated anyone more, not even you.” His face became haunted and gaunt.

            “Look at me, Sirius,” Severus ordered gently. It was the first time Severus had used Black’s first name, but it felt apt for this situation. Black’s eyes opened, and Severus troubled over the darkness he found in them. Azkaban had robbed Black of all the light that made him shine at Hogwarts, and Severus suppressed the urge to pull him close.

            “You are not the only one haunted by what could have been. I have made mistakes for which I would forfeit anything to correct. I know what it is like to hate oneself. You are not alone,” Severus concluded, unsure if his statements would have any effect on the grieving man.

            Black’s eyes searched Severus’s, causing him to shift under the intense stare. A multitude of emotion shot across Black’s face. The moment stretched. Then, something appeared to shatter inside Black. He keeled over, and his breathing devolved into sobs. His back shuddered.

            Severus gazed down at the man. Alarm spurred his heartbeat, and he searched for a solution.  He couldn’t leave Black alone and crying. Even though he paraded himself around as heartless, he was not a cruel man. He wanted to help Black, help him like Black had eased Severus’s pain the night before.

            Awash with the memory, Severus settled on what to do. His confidence faltered; his expertise in comforting people was limited at best. He didn’t want to worsen the situation, but inaction helped no one, so with a hesitant hand, he lifted Black’s shoulder.

            Black’s face had tightened with pain, his eyes red and unseeing. Severus brought a hand to his wet cheeks and gestured him upwards. Black followed with actions slow and submissive. Using the momentum, Severus placed one arm around the trembling man and led him tenderly to the bed. Black’s feet dragged across the floor, but Severus managed to navigate him successfully.

            Upon reaching the bed, Severus helped Black lie down. The man moved unconfidently, and Severus keenly recognized the feeling of unawareness and apathy caused by a consuming pain. With Black down, Severus moved to the other side of the bed and crawled in. Looking at Black reassured him of his decision, and he shifted towards Black. Placing an arm around Black, Severus pulled him closer and let him bury his head onto Severus’s shoulder. The tears wet the fabric, but Severus didn’t give a damn.

            Instead, he brought his hand up to stroke through Black’s hair. The cool, luscious hair coiled around his hand and the steady petting motion seemed to lessen Black’s sobs. Black remained a shuddering mess, however. His agony radiated deep, and Severus knew his measly actions could do nothing to stop it.

            He lay there, instead, letting Black seek out his warmth and sink deeper into him. With all the space eliminated between them, Severus pushed past his discomfort and the itchy sensation settling on his skin and let Black’s sobs run their course. The night drifted away and eventually, Black’s cries subsided. After a while, they disappeared fully, and steady breathing replaced them. He remained closely drawn to the other man, and while Severus attempted to shift away, Black only held on tighter. Stuck in Black’s embrace, Severus succumbed to the night and let sleep wash over him.

 


	4. Broken Places

    _The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.”_

_A Farwell to Arms, Ernest Hemingway_

* * *

 

            Sirius Black woke up surrounded by warmth. In Azkaban, warmth had been but a distant memory as cold fog and briny sea water soaked his skin. He tried distancing himself from the warmth since it so clearly did not belong. As he did, he felt Snape’s hand dislodge from his hair, and the man mumbled something that sounded like an objection.

            Hearing that sound, Sirius reoriented himself and the confusion dissipated. He decided to forfeit his efforts to get away. Snape was still sleeping, and he hadn’t been this warm in gods know when. Even for the last two nights, Snape would always leave before Sirius woke, leaving only the faint remnants of heat. This morning, Snape’s warmth had settled onto Sirius’s skin, and he couldn’t bring himself to break it off. Instead, haziness descended over him, and he sighed into Snape’s shoulder. He drifted away until a sudden hook of a memory submerged itself into his mind.

            Gasping, Sirius replayed the events of the night. A sudden desire to scream overcame him. He had broken down in front of Snape, he had lost control and started _crying._ He didn’t cry anymore, not after Azkaban took everything from him.

            As thoughts raced through his head, Snape must have woken because he suddenly tensed and tried to push Sirius away. Sirius moved away, regretting the loss of warmth but glad that their contact had ended. Snape abruptly sat up and buried his head into his hand. Sirius watched him.

            “Guess we’re even now,” Sirius said, turning away from Snape. Snape let out a dry laugh.

            “You going?” Sirius asked. He looked at the clock which looked back at him with a 5:30. Another long night of sleep. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get used to it.

            “Yes,” Snape stuttered out. “I have potions I need to attend to.”

            “At 5:30?”

            Snape fell silent. His fingers sifted through his hair.

            “You coming back tonight?”

            “Yes, I will. I…”

            “Yeah?” Sirius urged.

            “I didn’t know what to do last night. I hope what I did was appropriate,” Snape continued with great difficulty. Sirius doubted this was a common occurrence for him.

            “What? You’re telling me you don’t know what to do with a grieving escaped convict? I’m ashamed of you, Snape,” Black deadpanned. “Don’t worry. You did fine considering the circumstances. And I slept. That’s more than I can ask for on a normal day.”

            Snape nodded, solaced by the words. He stood up and reached for his neck. “I’ll see you tonight, Black.”

            “Wait,” Sirius began, unsure of what he wanted to do. He needed to do something, though. They couldn’t keep on pretending like this was nothing. Sirius was too tired to play games anymore. “Call me Sirius.”

            “Sirius,” Snape tested, the name rolling off his tongue like the gentle crash of a wave. Sirius liked the way his name sounded coming out of Snape’s mouth. “Very well. I’ll see you tonight, Sirius.”

            “See you then,” Sirius paused and waited for Snape to fill in the blank. The man was a stubborn ass, but hopefully, he wouldn’t ignore the gesture.

            “Severus,” Snape offered quietly. Sirius flashed Snape a smile.

            “See you then, Sevvy.”

            Sirius could swear Snape groaned before apparating out the room.

            Stretching, Sirius stood up. He wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, so he might as well start his day. A shower, breakfast, and maybe he would read some. Remus was supposed to come over later, and he didn’t know if Dumbledore would stop by like he did yesterday. It didn’t make much difference. The days at Grimmauld Palace felt endless while he searched for ways to keep his mind occupied. Usually, he failed. Today, however, he doubted it would be a problem. Severus…Jesus, that sounded weird in his head, Severus had catalyzed a whole stream of doubt, confusion, and upheaval, and now, Sirius had to attempt to sort it out.

* * *

 

            Before he knew it, the day ended. Dismissing his class and sending them terrorizing looks to study for their finals, Severus cleaned up the room and retreated to his quarters. With nothing to grade and no potions to worry about it, Severus had nothing but his thoughts. From personal experience, he knew dwelling would only cause pain, so despite the fact it was still fairly early, Severus clasped the necklace and thought of Sirius.

            When he opened his eyes, the room was devoid of Sirius Black. Growing irritated at his impatience, Severus debated returning to Hogwarts. He eventually decided against it, and instead, picked up one of Sirius’s books. The title read  _A Farewell to Arms_ by Hemingway. He sat down and prepared to read.

            Just as he had finished chapter one, the door burst open and Sirius barged in. Severus startled at the abrupt sound and stood up. Sirius caught sight of Severus, and a wide smile broke across his face.

            “Sev!” he exclaimed, and before Severus could think twice about it, Sirius had crossed the distance and pulled him into a tight hug. “You wouldn’t believe it, but I heard the best news.” Without waiting for Severus to respond, he continued. “This summer, the Weasleys are going to be here and Hermione will spend time here, and Harry is going to come too! I’m not going to spend the summer alone.”

            He barely recognized the words as alarm spread through him. Hopelessness surged in him, and he screamed into the depths of his subconscious to not do this to him, not now, but it didn’t listen or didn’t care. He tensed against Sirius, and fear coated his throat. He had to get away. Straining against Sirius, he stumbled backward and his foot caught on the chair, causing him to careen to the floor. He landed hard. Sirius immediately crouched down and tried to help, but Severus pushed him away.

            “Don’t touch me,” he whimpered. Shame screamed through him; it had been years, decades, but the terror remained. Sirius knelt down next to him, keeping his hands by his side.

            “I’m sorry,” Sirius offered, but Severus couldn’t hear him through the rushing in his head. Time faded away from him, and he lay there until the rushing ended and he found he could breathe again. His heartbeat leveled as the terror subsided. The whole time, Black sat next to him patiently.

            Finally, he felt comfortable enough to sit up. He kept his gaze fixated on the floor.

            “Sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s not your fault. I overreacted.”

            “I shouldn’t have rushed in like that. I won’t do it again.” Sirius thought for a moment. “Do you want to talk about?” His voice had taken on that gentle quality that made Severus weak at the knees.

            “No.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “No,” Severus snarled. He could never talk about this, no matter how tenderly Sirius treated him. These memories would go with him to the grave.

            “Okay,” Sirius whispered. He leaned against the bottom of the bed, and after a moment, Severus joined him.

            “What was the good news?” Severus asked, attempting to move past the previous event.

            “I won’t be alone this summer.”

            Severus tilted his head at that. “As the Order’s base, wasn’t that always the case?”

            Sirius shook his head, and his enthusiasm seeped back into his voice. “The Weasleys will spend some time here, and Hermione and Harry might be able to visit. I won’t just have to spend it with old men like you.”

            “We’re the same age,” Snape said dryly.

            “Pretty sure you’re a couple months older than me.”

            “No, I’m not. My birthday is in January. Yours is November. You’re the old man here if anything.” Sirius turned to Severus.

            “You remember my birthday? It’s almost like you care for me.” Amusement lit up Sirius’s sentence, and Severus relaxed as his panicked reaction was placed behind them.

            “How could I forget when Potter would spend the whole week celebrating outlandishly?”

            Sirius snorted. “I forgot he used to do that. Do you remember when he released all those doves everywhere in the Great Hall on my fifteenth, and they shit on everything? I think I broke a rib laughing.”

            “I would prefer not to.” Severus pointed his nose upwards. “They were always distasteful.”

            “C’mon, the school loved it,” he teased.

            “Except for the dove shit,” Severus added begrudgingly.

            “I’ll give you that one,” Sirius conceded. “But everything else was fantastic.”

            A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. Severus turned to Sirius and shook his head. It couldn’t become common knowledge that he spent his nights with Sirius. If the Dark Lord ever caught drift of it…

            Sirius stood up and went to the door. He opened it slightly and peered out.

            “Remus? What brings you up here this fine evening?”

            “Moody, Kinglsey, and I wanted a drink, and we were wondering if you’d like to join,” Remus said, his voice drifting through the room.

            Sirius sighed. “Not sure I feel up to it tonight, Moony.”

            “Is everything okay?” Remus asked.

            “Yeah, everything’s fine. Maybe another time.” Sirius was doing his best to sound relaxed and nonchalant, but Severus could see right through it.

            “You know, if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here for you Pads,” Remus offered.

            “I know you are, Moony. You’re my best friend.” Remus regarded Sirius for a moment, before nodding.

            “Well, if you want to join us, we’ll be downstairs,” Remus concluded.

            “Sounds good, mate,” Sirius said and closed the door. He turned around and returned to his position on the floor next to Severus. Severus stared at Sirius.

            “What is it?”

            “You can go with him if you’d like. You don’t need to stay here for my sake.”

            “What? Sit down there and morosely stare into some whiskey while we reminisce over the good days. I’d much rather be up here with you.”

            “So you can stare morosely at me instead?”

            Sirius smiled. “Of course.”

            “He’s good to you,” Severus said, leaning his head back.

            “I don’t deserve him.”

            “No, you don’t,” Severus agreed. Sirius huffed.

            “Usually this is the point where you go of course you deserve him, Sirius, you’re the best person I know. Really, Sev,” Sirius joked. For a split second, he could see a smile grace Severus’s face. “Was that a smile I saw?”

            “No,” Severus scowled.

            Sirius laughed. “It was. I didn’t think this day would ever come. The world must be truly ending.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t smile,” Severus protested.

            “Ah, yes. Can’t let people think you’re anything other than the terrifying potions master. A smile would ruin your reputation.”

            “Oh, be quiet.”

            “Make me.” Sirius’s eyes darkened slightly, and Severus felt a tightening in his chest. He ignored the feeling. There was no way he would allow it to formulate into anything more.

            “Silencio,” he said and watched in amusement as Sirius’s mouth opened and closed without any sound. “Much better,” he sighed.

            Sirius glared at him and crossed his arms. If Sirius wasn’t silenced, Severus was certain a long list of expletives would fill the room. Severus let it drag on for a moment more, before lifting the spell.

             “Not fair,” Sirius muttered, frowning. Severus hummed and stared the wall across from him. Pictures adorned it, and curious, he stood up. His eyes flickered over the photos. Potter graced many, as he expected, and there was a fair amount of Lupin. Sirius must have torn Pettigrew out because some of the photos ended raggedly. The three men laughed in the pictures, swinging their arms around one another. Sirius looked happy.

            As Severus gazed over the pictures, his eyes caught on one and he felt his heart beat quicken. Lily stared back at him with a smile gracing her beautiful face. Potter sat next to her, but he ignored the intrusion. Lily looked stunning in a dark sweater, and Severus couldn’t tear his eyes away.

            Sirius moved to stand next to him. “You can have that one, if you want.”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Severus shot back defensively. Sirius shrugged off the lackluster excuse and tore down the photo of Lily.

            “I guess you don’t like James in it, but she looks beautiful.”

            “I don’t want your photo,” Severus responded. He turned away, but Sirius grabbed his hand.

            “Take it,” he ordered, pressing the photo into Severus’s hand. After a moment, Severus complied and placed the photo into a pocket. He would have to tear off the part with Potter later without Sirius watching him. Severus displayed no indication of his thanks and glared at the wall.

            “Rule Number 2,” Sirius began, and Severus turned to look at him.

            “Excuse me?”

            “Remember our ground rules? I have another one.”

            Severus looked at him dryly. “What is it?”

            “Rule Number 2 – no more pretending. I’m fucking done with games, and I know you are too, so how we about we cut the crap? If everything stays in this room, then we might as well keep all the lies and bullshit out,” Sirius explained, gesturing with his hands. Severus gazed coolly at him and hid his reaction. Sirius sighed. “This is what I’m talking about. Also, I know she mattered to you, so you don’t have to pretend she doesn’t. Maybe you have to out there, but don’t do it here.”

            Severus smirked, but it was acrimonious. “May I remind you that I am a spy? I survive off lies.”

            Sirius gestured again. “Okay, fine. But do it out there. Here, just…”

            “Just what, Black?” Severus urged, reverting to Sirius’s surname.

            “Just be yourself,” Sirius finished meekly.

             “Do you hear how idiotic you sound? This isn’t some summer camp where we’re all going to be friends and celebrate our individuality. This is war. I cannot afford to be myself or I will die in agony. So don’t you dare go there,” Severus snarled.

            Sirius started to raise his hands in surrender, but halfway through the act, returned them to his side. He formed fists. “You know what, Snape? I don’t buy that.”

            Severus took a step closer and closed the distance between them. “Think carefully about what you are about to say.” His voice lowered an octave, and he saw Sirius gulp in discomfort.

            “I did, and sure, with Voldemort, I can see why you couldn’t do that. You have to lie to him or else he’s going to kill you. And Dumbledore too because you don’t want him worrying about you. But with me, it doesn’t fucking matter. In here, things are different. You can actually act like a human being instead of a heartless snake. Drop the act, Snape,” Sirius seethed.

            “You think it doesn’t matter? What if the Dark Lord ever gets hold of you? You’re reckless and senseless, so it wouldn’t be too hard for him. What if he tears apart your mind, which I can assure you, wouldn’t pose any difficulty to him? Suddenly, he knows everything about our game, and now, he’s going to torture me until I beg for death. The Order will lose its spy. It will weaken Dumbledore and provide an advantage for Voldemort. All because you want me to be myself?” Severus derided, his face twisted in anger.

            “So what, you’re just going to bury everything and leave it to fester?” Sirius growled.

            “It’s worked for me for thirty years. I see no reason why it needs to change.”

             “Don’t give me that fucking excuse. You’re fucking miserable if the last couple of nights have anything to show for it.” Sirius’s tone took on an edge. “And you know what? You practically couldn’t wait to tell me your shit. This stuff has been stuck inside of you too long and left to rot, and you’re practically dying to tell someone. You want me to listen to you, and I will. I honestly will. But I won’t listen to any lies.”

            “You don’t know anything about me,” Severus scoffed.

            “So tell me.” Sirius lessened the anger in his voice but continued to stare heatedly into Severus’s eyes.  “But don’t try to play any games.”

            “And if I die because you’re too foolish to think rationally?”

            “I’m probably going to be dead at that point anyway, so it doesn’t really matter to me.”

            Tension radiated off the two men as they remained fixed on one another. Sirius focused so intently on Severus’s expression that he didn’t see the punch until it was too late.

            Reeling from the blow on his cheek, Sirius lunged at Severus and brought them crashing to the ground. He landed a few blows on Severus’s face before Severus flipped Sirius over and returned the favor. They wrestled on the ground, but neither man could gain a significant advantage. They continued to struggle as fingers scraped into flesh and bruises blossomed on their cheeks. Sirius spat out some blood and tried to wrap his hands around Severus’s neck, but the slimy snake slithered away and left Sirius nothing but air. Severus reached for Sirius’s hair, but Sirius jerked away. He struggled to his feet, and Severus followed. The two men regarded each other warily for a minute.

            “Fuck you, Snape,” Sirius declared.

            “Fuck you too, Black.”

            “I have half the mind to punch your ugly excuse for a face in.”

            “I have half the mind to break every bone in your body.”

            “Not if I get to you first.”

            “I would like to see you try, old man.”

            Sirius paused. Suddenly, the fight dissipated inside him, and he sunk onto the bed. He ran a hand over his tender cheeks. After a moment, Severus sat down next to him.

            “Talk about cathartic,” Sirius muttered. Severus didn’t respond, but Sirius knew the fight was over for both men. “Want to hear something funny?”

            “Depends.”

            “I don’t really want to punch your ugly excuse for a face in. I guess I broke rule number two.”

            “We’re both guilty,” Severus replied. Sirius tilted his head in confusion. “I don’t really want to break every bone in your body either.”

Sirius lay down on the bed. “How the hell am I supposed to explain these bruises?”

            “You fell down the stairs.”

            “Ten times?”

            “It happens.”

            Sirius snorted. “I’m sure Remus will buy that.”

            Severus sighed. “I know a spell that will mask the bruises. I know how much your face matters to you.” His tone had lost all of its bite, and he lay down next to Sirius. He stared up the ceiling. Sirius looked over at him, and before he knew what he was doing, he had reached out and grasped Severus’s hand. The tension in the man eased. Sirius waited for Severus to speak, and after a few minutes, he did.

            “It’s not as simple as you’d like it to be, Sirius. I can’t stop in the way that you want me to. It’s been too long.”

            “I know,” Sirius agreed gently. “It was stupid of me to ask. Can I ask you something else?”

            “I suppose.”

            “Can you at least try?”

            Severus remained silent. His fingers tightened around Sirius. “Okay,” he whispered in a voice Sirius could barely hear. “I’ll try.”

            Twisting around until his whole body was on the bed, Sirius kept his hand interlocked with Severus. They lay in silence until sleep consumed them.


	5. Wonderful/Hurt

             _“How wonderful to be alive, he thought. But why does it always hurt?”_

_Doctor Zhivago, Boris Pasternak_

* * *

 

             Remus wouldn’t stop staring at Sirius. Neither would Moody or Kingsley for that matter.

            Sirius sipped his whiskey, trying to ignore the gazes. They proved too irritating, so eventually, Sirius turned to Remus. “What?”

            Remus startled and coughed. “How was your night?” Remus ventured.

            “Fine,” Sirius responded. “Why do you ask?”

            “Last night, we heard something fall upstairs.”

            “I tripped,” Sirius lied. Moody watched him, his piercing blue eye scanning Sirius.

            “Oh, okay.” Guilt flashed through Sirius for lying to Remus, but he couldn’t reveal the real reason. Severus Snape would kill him if he did. “I was worried something worse had happened.”

            Sirius chuckled. “Don’t worry Moony. I can take care of myself.”

            “I know,” Remus said, his voice soft. It sounded like he wanted to talk more, but it was nearing nightfall and Sirius needed to see Severus as soon as possible tonight. They needed to sort through what happened.

            The guilt worsened as Sirius decided to leave. Remus honestly deserved someone better than him, someone who wouldn’t lie or suddenly leave him. Unfortunately, Sirius couldn’t be that man. With a sigh, he glanced towards the clock.

            “I think I’m going to head up. See you tomorrow.” Sirius stood while Remus nodded stiffly. Sirius made a quick exit in case Remus tried to keep him longer. He had spent the day contemplating Severus and wanted badly to talk to him.

            Sirius walked upstairs and entered his room. Severus had yet to show, so Sirius sat down and started a fire in the ashy fireplace. He watched the flames, his mind drifting.

            A crack disturbed him from his stupor, and he turned to look at Severus. He looked as immoveable and unemotional as ever. Sirius gestured towards the seat, and Severus complied.

            Tapping his fingers against his leg, Sirius couldn’t keep the words inside him any longer. They had sat formulating in his brain for the past few hours, and he needed Severus to know.

            “I thought a lot today,” Sirius began. Severus sighed and pinched his nose.

            “My actions last night were extreme, I…”

            “Let me talk first,” Sirius interrupted, locking eyes with Severus. “As I was saying, I thought a lot today, and I need to say some things to you, and I need you to just listen.

            “I don’t know how, but Dumbledore stumbled upon something when he forced us together. I haven’t slept this well in fourteen years, and I believe the same goes for you. But whatever this is, this is more than that. These past four nights have changed everything I thought about you. Last night, when we fought, clarified some things for me.

            “And before you apologize for hitting me, I want to say I am genuinely sorry for bullying you all those years ago. Everything James and I did to you was cruel, unfair, and childish. I was an ass, and if I saw my teenage self now, I would hex him into next week. You don’t ever have to accept my apology, but I need you to know this.” Severus began to speak, but Sirius continued on.

            “I fucked up a lot when I was young, but I never fucked up as badly then when I sent you to Moony. I had nightmares about it for a long time. It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever done,” Sirius said, feeling something sinewy twist inside him. “You deserve more than an apology though, but I don’t know to explain why I did it in a way that makes sense. The best I could come up with is that I was blinded by a hatred towards what you represented than what you actually were. You were everything my parents would have loved, so I had to hate you. I had to take out my anger and frustration on you even though it made everything worse. And when you started to snoop around, I wanted to…” Sirius’s voice broke. He always did horribly with confessions, and the memories stung like salt in a wound, but he soldiered on. Severus Snape deserved more.

            “I wanted to scare you and hurt you. I wanted you to run away terrified from the Gryffindors because you never did despite everything. You remained defiant, and I hated you for it because you made me feel like I was losing. Even though I wanted to be good, I would never defeat the evil that lurked inside of me, and you symbolized that. I’m sorry; I’m not making any sense,” Sirius petered off. His limbs ached with a ghostly pain, and his mind felt as if someone had submerged it in a blender. Severus didn’t respond, and Sirius could sense their newfound connection snapping.

            A sharp knocking on the door split the moment, and Sirius rushed to the door. He couldn’t face Severus anymore, so the interruption offered a respite. He opened the door slightly, shielding Severus. He expected Remus again, but instead, Dumbledore stared back at him.

            “You can open the door more, Sirius. I know he’s in here,” Dumbledore said, smiling softly. Sirius opened the door and let Dumbledore in before once again closing it.

            Severus looked up at Dumbledore. His face remained impassive, and Sirius knew he had fucked up again. Their nights together would end with his confession.

            “Why are you here?” Severus asked. His voice rang through the room.

            “I wanted to check in and see how you two are doing.”

            “And you saw, so now you can go,” Severus responded with a voice like ice. Dumbledore’s eyes widened slightly.

            “Now, my boy, I haven’t yet had the chance to check in.”

            “What do you want me to tell you?”

            “You two haven’t tried to kill each other yet, have you?” Dumbledore asked.

            Sirius snorted, and Severus shot him a scathing look. Dumbledore turned to Sirius.

            “Yes?”

            “We threw a couple punches at each other last night, but we’re past it now,” Sirius explained, leaning against the wall. He could feel Severus’s eyes burning a hole in him.

            “You might be past it,” Severus hissed, and Sirius did a double take at the venom in the man’s voice. He wanted to bash his head into the wall. He liked what they had, but he had to go about and fucking ruin it like everything else in his life.

            “Severus, there’s no need to be so malevolent,” Dumbledore consoled. Severus stood up.

            “It’s the only way Black can cram anything into that thick skull of his,” Severus said, his voice twisting on Sirius’s surname.

            “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sirius shot back. Anger began to displace the regret and melancholy.

            “Exactly,” Snape jeered.

            “I said I was sorry,” Sirius exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. Ire pounded in his veins.

            “It’s too late for that.”

            “Is it now?” Sirius laughed mockingly. “Fuck you, Snape. I thought you had changed but you’re still the miserable, cowardly bastard you’ve always been.”

            “You tried to kill me, Black, and you want me to forgive you?” Severus seethed. “You’re nothing but an entitled Gryffindor who can’t see anything past your vapid arrogance.”

            “Well I don’t see you apologizing for giving me to the Ministry so they could let dementors suck out my soul,” Sirius raged. Dumbledore had faded into the background, and Sirius focused entirely on Snape and his ugly, demented face. Sirius’s comments had caused something to flicker painfully against Snape’s face, so Sirius decided to take it further. “I was a sixteen-year-old boy, and you were a thirty-five-year-old man. So don’t you dare,” Sirius growled, “don’t you dare act like you’re an innocent victim.”

            The sentence halted Snape. “I believe it may be time for this experiment to end,” Snape articulated. For a moment, Sirius considered agreeing with Snape. They had too many grievances and too much anger directed at each other. However, Sirius sure as hell didn’t want to go back to sleeping an hour a night, and he sure as hell wasn’t a quitter.

            “So you’re just going to give up, then?” Sirius remarked. “Just like that? I guess you really are a…” Sirius trailed off. He could see the agony trace once again across Snape’s face. His comments were wounding Snape, and he remembered the night in which Snape had returned a shuddering mess. Snape could face extreme physical pain with a limitless bravery, but at the same time, his emotional state was in tatters. Sirius and Severus both knew it, and that shared recognition loosened something in Sirius.

            “Can we agree,” Sirius began, trying to remove the anger from his tone, “that we’ve both done horrible things, okay?” Severus didn’t respond. “I don’t want to give up on this so soon. I think we can figure this out, despite all of this shit. But if you don’t think so, then go. We’ve hurt each other enough, and I’m tired of it.”

            Severus stared at Sirius, but Sirius couldn’t fathom anything from Severus’s expression. His sincere desire for the man to stay surprised him, and he desperately hoped Severus would follow through.

            Severus reaching up to his neck dashed Sirius’s hopes, and before Sirius could utter another word, the man had vanished. Something dark gnawed at his chest.

            “Sirius,” Dumbledore began softly. Sirius winced at his voice. “What you did was brave. I will talk to him, and I’ll help him see the errors in his ways.”

            Sirius shook his head. “Leave him be. I’m not going to force him to stay, and you shouldn’t either. He’s made his decision.”

            Dumbledore’s blue eyes saddened, and Sirius felt a desperate urge for solitude.

            “I’m sorry this couldn’t have lasted longer,” Dumbledore said as he moved over to Sirius and placed a hand on his shoulder. “He may yet come around, but whatever happens, thank you for giving this a chance.”

            Sirius avoided Dumbledore’s eyes, and after a moment, the old man sighed and pressed a kiss against Sirius’s forehead. The air cracked as Dumbledore apparated away.

            Sirius wandered over to the chair and sat down. The fire mesmerized him. An achy numbness settled on him, and Sirius could feel a familiar hollowness widening inside him. His mind stumbled to a stop, and hopelessness pressed into him. He felt like this in Azkaban, but he didn’t care enough to worry about that insignificant fact.

            He lost track of time. His eyes blurred with the heat of the fire, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. The rest of him remained numb anyway, so it wasn’t like it mattered. Nothing mattered, truly, and Sirius was _stupid stupid stupid_ to think so.

            Sleep wouldn’t come to him tonight, and it probably wouldn’t come the next night or the next. The thought didn’t trigger any emotion.

            The numbness entrenched itself inside his chest, and not even a sharp crack could break him from the stupor.

            Instead, it took coarse hands with elegant, pale fingers stroking his face to cause the hollowness to start to recede like a retreating wave. The hands pressed against Sirius’s cheeks, and he leaned in as they traced his nose and cheekbones and forehead. The hands were cold, but they sent warmth coursing inside of him. He whimpered at the sensation and closed his eyes.

            A voice called his name, and despite Sirius’s attempts to ignore it, it persisted. Finally, he opened his eyes and stared directly into the face of Severus Snape. A multitude of emotions broke in Sirius, and he struggled to quantify the relief and confusion and concern and happiness and…

            “Can you hear me?” Severus asked, his voice low and dark like whispers of leaves in the night.

            “I thought…” Sirius mumbled, furrowing his brow.

            “I had to get something.” Severus removed his hands from Sirius’s face, and he reached into his pocket. He withdrew a silver necklace. The delicate necklace looped around in a simple silver chain. A curling _S_ sat in between both ends.

            Severus grasped Sirius’s hand and pressed the necklace into his palm.

            “I don’t understand,” Sirius uttered slowly.

            “This necklace was a gift from Lily when I was thirteen. It’s one of the most precious things I own.”

            “Then why are you giving it to me?”

            “I couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing it again. That way, when we fight like we did today and I stormed out of here, your possession of this necklace will force me to return to you. It’s my guarantee to you that I won’t leave without reason. No matter what you say, I will have to come back at least one more time.”

            “But I thought you were angry at me?”

            “I was, and if you’re still intent on these nights, I will tell you why.”

            “Then why did you come back? I thought you were finished,” Sirius confessed, searching Severus’s face for signs of duplicity.

            “I don’t want to give up either.”

            The sentence broke over Sirius, and he felt like he could breathe again. Warmth infused itself into his heart, and the achy numbness faded into the background.

            “I was so sure you weren’t going to come back.”

            “What can I say? I’m full of surprises,” Severus teased lightly. Sirius grimaced.         

            “Wasn’t a very fun surprise, but I’m glad you came back.”

            The words silenced Severus who wore an unfathomable gaze. Sirius opened his hand and looped the necklace around his neck. He clasped it and let it fall. The metal weighed assuredly against his skin.

            “You better not lose it,” Severus warned, and Sirius smiled coyly at him.

            “I guess you’re going to have to trust me.”

            “I should have thought this through,” Severus groaned. Sirius laughed as levity upset the hollowness.

            “Too late,” he joked.

            Severus stood up from his crouch and sat in the opposing chair. He sighed. “I suppose I owe you an explanation now.”

            “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want,” Sirius placated even though he desperately wanted to know. Severus smirked.

            “You’re not a very good liar.”

            Sirius huffed. Severus gazed at him in amusement.

            “Regardless of your lackluster lying, I owe you an explanation for my reaction earlier.”

            “I’m a dick; there’s nothing more to it,” Sirius explained, grimacing at his childish and cruel behavior.

            “Don’t interrupt me, Black,” Severus ordered and Sirius shut up. “As I was saying, there is a reason I reacted so negatively, and it’s not just because you’re a dick. I’ve never said this before, so I’m uncertain of how this will procced. You asked me to try, so I will.

            “I’m sure there’s no need for me to elaborate over the appalling nature of your actions. You terrorized a teenage boy and stole more from him than you could fathom. That’s why what you said made me furious.

            “When I was eleven, I wanted nothing more than to be…” Severus halted. Sirius reached out to hold Severus’s hand. Even though Sirius thought it would be better left in cheesy romance novels, the contact calmed Severus, and he would need help as he struggled to formulate his thoughts. “I wanted to be your friend, Black,” Severus forced out. “Honestly, I wanted friends. Period. Lily was beautiful, but I wanted more. I was a lonely child, and I hoped Hogwarts would change that.

 In the beginning, I was hopeful. I even considered that a friendship between us might emerge, despite our run in on the train. That didn’t exactly happen,” Severus trailed off. “When you started bullying me, I struggled to understand why. I knew you hated Slytherins, but there a lot of other Slytherins, so why focus on me? I entertained the possibility that you wanted my attention but quickly dismissed it. There must have been something wrong with me.

            “When you mocked my oily hair, I started taking two showers a day. When you laughed at my posture, I forced myself to stand differently. When you ridiculed my good grades, I started failing classes. I was eleven at the time. I didn’t know any better.”

            “Severus,” Sirius began, desperate to say something.

            “What did I say about interruptions?” Severus warned, and Sirius shut up again. Severus took a deep breath and continued. “It didn’t work despite everything I did. You still loathed me, and I still didn’t understand why. I became convinced there was something wrong with you rather than me.

            “In the second year, I realized I was wrong. Everyone loved you and Potter, and scarcely anyone talked to me. I started to blame myself for your hexes and jeers. I started to hate myself for it.

            “As the years passed and you didn’t relent, my hatred hardened. I loathed myself, dreaded when I was alone but couldn’t break from the isolation. I…” Severus’s voice broke, “I _hated_ myself, and I did things…” Severus paused. Pain flushed his face.

            “You can tell me,” Sirius offered gently, and Severus regarded him warily. “Please.”

            “Another time,” Severus whispered, shaking his head. “Tonight, when you provided an explanation for your actions and placed the blame on you, it awoke all of the hatred I felt as a teenager. I wondered what I would have done if I knew this the age twelve and didn’t have to sort through years of confusion, guilt, and self-hatred. The way you said it tonight as if it made perfect sense that the fault lay with you, it tore at me because I would have given anything back then to know I wasn’t to blame for the bullying,” Severus trailed off. He pressed his fingers to his temple. “That’s my explanation, Sirius. That’s why I was so angry.”

            Sirius stared at the man. Thoughts whirled through his mind, and his throat had clenched making him feel like he was choking. “I don’t know what to say,” he stuttered out, “but I’m truly, deeply sorry.”

             “You don’t have to say anything, I just want you to know. And I think after all this time, I might be able to forgive you. As long as you promise never to call me Snivellus again.”

            “Of course. It will never pass my lips again. I much prefer Sev or Sevvy.”

            Severus shot him an annoyed look, but Sirius smiled. He took a deep breath. “Severus,” he began, his voice serious, “I want to help you, but I’m not sure how. I’m not sure I can. We might be too old and too pained for us to move past it. I don’t know. What you just told me, Severus, I’m not sure I can…it’s difficult to verbalize, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it.”

            “You don’t have to,” Severus countered.

            “Yes, I do,” Sirius responded defiantly. “It’s the least I can do for you.”

            Severus fell silent, and Sirius could sense the gears whirling in his mind. A shift was occurring inside the man, something hidden surfaced. After a minute or so, Severus nodded.

            “If you insist, Sirius,” he conceded. “Perhaps you can start by…I don’t want to presume.”

            “Oh, just tell me.”

            “Well, the last few nights in bed have been pleasant, perhaps you’d be willing to…” Severus faded, his voice hesitant. Sirius was struck by the contrast between the self-assured Potions Master and the frightened, solitary man in front of him.

            “You don’t need to ask,” Sirius responded softly. “I like sleeping with you like this.” The embers of the fire drifted through the fireplace. “Come on, Sev,” Sirius said, “we’ve had enough for tonight.”

            Severus stood up and walked over to the bed. He lay down, pulling the blanket over him. Sirius paused, regarding the unusual scene, before joining Severus. It almost frightened him at how fast their relationship had changed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he wrapped his arms around Severus. The other man pulled Sirius closer, burying his face into the crook of Sirius’s neck. Sirius gasped at the desperate intimacy. He couldn’t blame the man, it sounded like he hadn’t been held like this in years. At the same time, Sirius had always viewed him as aloof and cold. Someone who would never easily join another in bed. The man who lay next to him was none of that. It was difficult to coincide the two versions of the same man, but Sirius found he much preferred the latter who let Sirius hold him throughout the night.

            Sirius stroked a hand through Severus’s hair, sighing at the warmth. The clock continued to tick on the wall, and sleep extended her silent hands to claim him.


	6. Arbor Vitae

            _And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.”_

_The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald_

* * *

 

             June had rushed into July with August itching for its turn. While Sirius couldn’t be outside to experience the changes himself, he noticed it in others. Mad-Eye especially seemed angered by the rise in temperature, while Tonks seemed to flourish in the scalding heat.

            The past few weeks had been ones of constant activity for Sirius. Some of the Weasley’s had moved in, including Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny, and Hermione had followed soon after. Everyone else came in and out frequently, sharing news and drinks. All in all, it wasn’t so bad as far as prisons went.

            Sirius still wanted Harry to spend the summer at Grimmauld Palace, but Dumbledore insisted that he remained at his relatives due to some special blood protection. It annoyed Sirius, and he had spent several nights complaining about it to Severus. He still hoped that Harry might be able to spend August with him, at the very least, blood protections be damned.

            Then, of course, there was Severus.

            When Dumbledore had first come to him with the idea, Sirius doubted it would last more than a week. They hated each other’s guts and locking them in a room together would lead nowhere good.

            But then, to Sirius’s eternal surprise, it did.

            The first four days were the most difficult. It took a lot out of Sirius to have those discussions with Severus, but they were desperately needed.

            After those first four days, they slowly fell into a comfortable routine. Severus would appear at night, and they would talk. Their conversations ranged across a slew of topics from the distinction of Nordic Noir or their collective dislike of Professor Montague from their fourth year or the superiority between cats and dogs (much to Sirius’s displeasure, Severus was a self-professed cat person). They would take about everything and nothing, and after those years of isolation in Azkaban, Sirius craved the motions of conversation.

            It reassured him to talk about topics that weren’t life and death or war-related, and he believed Severus felt the same. He felt surprisingly comfortable talking to Severus about any manner of topic.

            Severus offered surprising insights, but most of all, Severus’s sense of humor took Sirius off-guard. Sirius had always been aware that Severus was sharp and witty. It didn’t take many arguments to realize that Severus could always come up with a scathing reply. Usually, that wit was turned on Sirius and he was too angry to appreciate it. However, when Severus turned it on others… Sirius hadn’t laughed this hard since James.

            Those nights tended to be the best.

            Other nights, conversation would fall off or never start. Instead, they would sit in silence as Sirius read and Severus pored over potion formulas. Sirius felt something peaceful when he shared the silence with Severus, so he didn’t mind those nights either.

            Some nights, Severus would sharply appear in the room, his face closed off and a small frown pulling at his lips. On those nights, Severus would snap at Sirius. Any attempt in a conversation resulted in an argument. They would go to bed furious, and a resolution wouldn’t be found until the following morning. Despite that, Severus never left him again. Not like he had on the fourth night.

            Then again, Sirius got angry and snappy frequently. He hated being stuck in Grimmauld Palace. He hated spending all day inside the same eleven rooms. It drove him up the wall and he would take his frustration out on Severus.

            However, nothing was as bad as the nights where the Dark Lord called. On those nights, Sirius would pace around his room, anxious and desperate for Severus’s return. He had gleaned a better understanding of how Voldemort’s meetings went, and they were hardly pleasant. He could only hope that Severus would show up in one piece.

            Those meetings occurred once or twice a week, and each time Severus came back in a different state. Sirius had cataloged each date in his mind.

            On June 12th, Severus had appeared with blood soaking his shirt. Sirius had almost had a panic attack at the sight alone. He had several lacerations weeping blood, but after downing several pain-killing potions, he was able to heal them with little difficulty. “They weren’t done by the Dark Lord,” he told Sirius. “Those are the ones that are a bitch to heal.”

            On June 17th, Severus had shown up, consciousness and uninjured but unresponsive. Sirius let him sleep.

            On June 23rd, Severus returned with what appeared to be giant snake bites. Despite Sirius’s best efforts, he couldn’t get them to stop bleeding. Severus had told him to stop panicking and shut up. He proceeded to stitch the bite together in the muggle style, nearly blacking out from that pain alone _. “_ Have to treat it like a muggle wound _”_ he whispered. “Magic won’t work.”

            On June 29th, Severus had returned and stood silently for several long minutes. Then, to Sirius’s horror, he burst into tears. He didn’t stop crying until he fell asleep. The next morning, Sirius had asked what happened, but Severus didn’t speak. 

            On July 4th, Severus came back twitchy and angry. He jumped at Sirius’s touch and proceed to yell at him, accusing him of terrible things. He had apologized the following morning, and Sirius had forgiven him.

            On July 11th, Severus didn’t show up at all, and Sirius spent the night in a torrent of worry.

            On July 19th, Severus appeared with pallid skin. He struggled to formulate cohesive sentences and collapsed on the floor. He started crying again, his mouth working to form words that wouldn’t leave. Tremors racked his body. He had clung desperately onto Sirius.

            Every time, Sirius doubted his ability to handle this responsibility. The anxiety of the night and the inevitable fallout drove him to panic. However, he couldn’t leave Severus. He owed it to the man to be there when no one else was.

            Their relationship was hardly one-sided. Despite Sirius’s best efforts, his panic attacks would often emerge in full force. They had been a nasty side effect from Azkaban, and one Sirius had yet to shake. Since he was inside all day, everything felt terribly claustrophobic, so his current situation wasn’t helping. While Severus couldn’t stop them, he was an immense comfort. His presence alone lessened the worst of the effects and kept the terrifying numbness at bay. 

With these past few weeks, Sirius couldn’t deny that something was changing between them. Sirius’s emotions, long dead in Azkaban, were finally coming back to life. Happiness was such a foreign concept after Azkaban that Sirius had initially struggled to put it together. Now though, he realized he was on the brink of a realization that he could no longer ignore. He would have to confront it at some point, but until then, he would value every night he spent with Severus.

            And hey, nothing beat sleeping for longer than an hour a night.


	7. Breaking

            _I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine._

_Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte_

* * *

 

AN: This is a dark, mature chapter where full warnings apply. All will be explained, and there will be significant mentions of rape and child abuse. 

* * *

 

            A headache pulsated in Severus’s head, and his efforts to assail it had yielded nothing. A sharp pain would splinter his skull at irregular instances, but the agonizing pressure remained constant. The day had passed by in a blur, and by the time night came around, he was exhausted.

            He wanted nothing more than to collapse into Sirius’s bed and try to sleep away the headache. However, as he reached to his neck, a knock on the door sent spirals of pain through his head.

            “Who is it?” he called out, wincing at the volume of his voice. The door opened and Dumbledore walked in.

            “I wanted to talk to you. Is now a bad time?” Dumbledore moved up to Severus who began to shake his head but immediately stopped.

            “No, it’s fine. What is it?” he murmured. His vision blurred out for a second.

            “How is everything with Sirius?” Dumbledore said quietly as if he could sense Severus’s headache. Maybe he could; Severus still hadn’t seen the full extent of Dumbledore’s magic.

            “Good,” Severus pronounced slowly. The word rolled off his tongue like marbles. “He’s been a great help, and I’m glad you started this.” His heartbeat felt way too loud.

            Dumbledore looked at Severus in concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

            “I’m fine,” he stated. Dizziness swept over him and he leaned forward before righting himself.

            “I don’t think you are.”

            “It’s a headache, nothing more,” Severus explained. The concern remained in Dumbledore’s eyes. “Don’t worry,” he slurred, “Sirius will take care of me. He’ll make sure I’m okay.” His eyes fluttered shut as a throbbing ache suddenly laced his head.

            “I’m sure he will,” Dumbledore offered slowly. “Go to him, my dear boy, and get some rest.”

            Severus brought his hand up to the necklace and pushed past the pain to think of Sirius. It took a minute, but Sirius appeared and the portkey took effect. His landing sent jabs of pain searing in his mind, and Severus keeled over. He hadn’t had a migraine this bad in years, and the pain was unreasonable.

            Sirius rushed over to him and swept him into his arms. A protest died on Severus’s lips as the headache temporarily worsened. He raised his hands and cradled his head. Noting this, Sirius gently replaced Severus’s hands with his own. Severus groaned in appreciation.

            “What’s wrong?” Sirius asked, his voice low and cool.

            “Headache,” Severus muttered through gritted teeth.

            “Do you get them often?” Sirius inquired, and Severus wanted to sink into his voice. Its soothing tones salved the worst of his migraine.

            “Sometimes.”

            “Are they usually this bad?”

            Severus tried to think, but his thoughts had jumbled up. “No, I don’t think so,” he finally concluded. Sirius rubbed small circles into Severus’s scalp, and Severus moaned. He had dealt with his other headaches alone, so the kindness was unfamiliar. Severus didn’t want it to stop.

            “Do you need me to do anything?”

            “Stay with me,” Severus faltered as dizziness overcame him.

            “Of course. I won’t leave you.” Sirius’s hand’s continued to rub the reassuring circles on Severus’s head. “Do you think you can make it to the bed?”

            Severus puzzled over the question for a second. “Yes,” he admitted, “need help.”

            “Okay, on the count of three, we’ll stand up. One. Two. Three.” Sirius lifted up Severus who sagged against him. They stumbled towards the bed, and Sirius sighed in relief when they made it.

            Severus curled up in the bed, and his breathing quickened. His hands scrambled out as if searching for Sirius.

            Sirius quickly joined Severus and positioned the man so that his head lay on a pillow in Sirius’s lap. He returned to his previous action, and Severus moaned again. Heat dispelled through Sirius, but he ignored it. Severus needed him; he wouldn’t get distracted.

            They sat like that for a while. Sirius continued to stroke Severus’s head, and eventually, the man stilled. His breathing evened. Sirius shut his own eyes. Hopefully, with Severus now asleep, he had overcome the worst of it.

            Sirius regretted the fact that they weren’t able to talk, but he couldn’t blame Severus for his migraine. It looked agonizing, and Sirius morosely pondered the other times Severus dealt with it alone. No one should have to suffer this much without someone to help them reach the end.

            He couldn’t lie down without disturbing Severus, so Sirius drifted in and out of consciousness sitting upright. His neck pressed uncomfortably into the head of the bed. Half-dreams disturbed him. He slept fitfully.

            At one point in the night, a movement drew him from a pungent dream of searing red. His mind remained in a hazy state of mid-sleep.

            The movements were undefined as if they were struggling to understand the situation. It only took a few moments, because, the fingers, now reassured, moved carefully underneath the bottom of Sirius’s shirt. The soft fingers traced his skin, and Sirius sighed. He tilted his head as sleep sifted through his mind. This wasn’t his first time dreaming of being touched, and he would make the most of it while it lasted. Sex had been a scarce commodity for many years, and he yearned for the familiar mixture of lust, passion, and pleasure.      

            The fingers seemed to gain confidence because they began to move steadily lower. They paused at the line of his boxers, but only for a moment. Sparks illuminated Sirius’s skin, and he moaned quietly.

            The fingers descended lower, and Sirius tried to stifle a moan as they traced against the most sensitive part of him. With feather-light touches, they eased his cock from his pants and began to stroke it. His cock stirred and hardened. Sirius gasped as sensation flooded through him. Heat began to infiltrate his groin and stomach, and lust twinkled across his skin.

            Sirius moaned again as the fingers strengthened the strokes and almost keened as the fingers wrapped around his cock and began to move steadily up and down. He wanted to cry out at the friction. Pleasure coiled in his stomach. Every thought dissipated in his mind as a warm mouth wrapped itself around his cock.

            He cried out. His chest heaved. Pleasure stained his mind, and he struggled to breathe. The mouth was so warm, so hot, so pleasurable. Sparks ignited behind his eyelids. The mouth moved around his cock, and tension twisted his insides. He threw his head back, moaning into the night. His hands scuttled for something to grab onto, and one hit another body.

            Horror descended onto Sirius, and in his fright, he pushed away from the person. His bare cock pulsed with need and demanded the return of the heat. Blood rushed through Sirius, and he had half a mind to push the head back down. Instead, with a large amount of willpower, Sirius turned away from the other person and pushed himself off the bed. He struggled to regain control of his breathing and think past the pleasure dominating his senses.

            “No, no, no” he muttered, grabbing his head. A scream boiled inside him. He kicked a table hard. “No!” he shouted, pulling at his hair. There was no way in hell Severus had just given Sirius a blowjob. Hell would have to freeze over for even the faintest possibility to occur. And even still, with hell as a barren Iceland, Severus Snape would have never looked twice at Sirius. It would never had happed. It should never have happened.

            His cock cruelly proved him otherwise.

            “What the fuck?” he shouted, turning to face the person in bed. He struggled to grasp what had just happened, and the lust pounding inside of him didn’t help. “What the fuck was that?”

            Severus Snape peered up at him. He slowly liked his lips, and Sirius felt dizzy.

            “I need to know,” Sirius muttered weakly, unable to tear himself from Severus’s mouth.

            Severus Snape continued to peer up at him, his eyes dark and guarded. His body betrayed no movement. “I’m not finished,” he drawled, his eyes redirecting towards Sirius’s groin. Sirius’s knees went weak, and he cursed himself. He desperately wanted to fall back in bed and let Severus proceed, but through sheer will power, he resisted.

            “No,” he whispered. “I can’t. This is wrong.”

            A cruel smile graced Severus’s face. “Nothing’s wrong if you don’t want it to be.”

            “This is.”

            Severus’s countenance remained emotionless as he slowly undid the buttons of his shirt. Sirius watched with a dry mouth. As Severus lifted the shirt from his body revealing impossibly pale skin, Sirius felt like he was going to collapse.

            Sirius forced the memory of Severus crying against him into his head, and his want lessened. He needed to think.

            Severus didn’t allow him anytime as he tilted his head and revealed supple, vulnerable flesh. His hand traced the lines of his chest into his pants, and he began to breathe heavily. He whimpered and looked up at Sirius.

            “I want it to be you,” he said hoarsely, letting out a small moan. All of Sirius’s breath left him, and he stumbled forward. Every thought departed him except for a commanding need to press himself up against the man and do horribly wonderful things to him.

            Skin aching, Sirius pulled at his shirt. His fingers got caught on the necklace on his neck, and Sirius almost tore it aside until he remembered. Standing there, shaking, Sirius struggled to organize his thoughts. Almost everything screamed at him to take the man, but as he held the necklace, he was frozen. A small voice of reason urged him to remember the nights, the promises, and Sirius realized with dawning horror that touching Severus right now would ruin everything.

            He stumbled backwards, trying to create space. “Stop it,” he ordered. Severus stopped, locking eyes with Sirius. “Stop it,” Sirius repeated.

            “I’m yours,” Severus countered, but his voice sounded constrained. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

            Sirius shook his head. “No, I can’t. I can’t do that.” His resolve strengthened despite the angry clamoring from below.

            “Why not?” Severus questioned. Sirius stared at the man.

            “I can’t do that to you.”

            Severus sat in silence. His brow furrowed briefly. “I’m not sure I understand. You paid for it.”

            Sirius stared at him, his mouth agape. The words from Severus’s mouth didn’t make any sense, but they certainly helped lessen the desire that ran rampant in him.

            “What the hell are you talking about?” Sirius muttered, too shocked to say anything else.

            Severus starred up at him and worried at his lip. “I’m not sure I understand,” he confessed, his hand twisting in the sheet.

            Sirius wanted to scream in frustration, but forced himself to calm down. There had to be an explanation for Severus’s actions, and acting irrationally would benefit no one. He organized his thoughts, and a question struck him.

            “How…” Sirius began, “how old are you?”

            “Eighteen,” Severus spat out defensively. It was a lie, but Sirius didn’t know why a thirty-seven year old man would feel the need to spin such a lie. Unless if somehow, his mind had reverted to his eighteen-year old state, and he genuinely believed it the truth. Still, the defensiveness of the statement led Sirius to think differently.

            “I’m going to ask again. How old are you?”

            Severus’s eyes became guarded, and a scowl creased his face. “Sixteen,” he muttered. His voice infiltrated Sirius like poison.

            “Sixteen?” Sirius repeated. His mind whirled. The confession sounded honest enough, but that meant Severus had relapsed into his teenage mind. The thirty-seven year old man had disappeared underneath a sixteen year old, and that sixteen year old was willing to let Sirius fuck him. Sirius had discovered something dark in Severus’s past, and it frightened him.

            “Do you know who I am?” Sirius inquired. Severus’s scowl deepened.

            “Does it matter?”

            “Yes.”

            “You’re one of the clients. You paid for me, you get to fuck me. That’s all I know about you,” Severus drawled. His voice held no hint of emotion, even though the statement sent fear burning through Sirius. He desperately hoped it was some fabrication Severus’s mind had generated that he was a…

            Someone pounded at the door, and Sirius nearly jumped out of his skin. Every nerve was stretched taught, and he felt heavy with the combination of lust, fear, and concern. However, the door offered a welcome distraction, and Sirius hurried to it.

            He cracked it open, shielding Severus and his bottom half.  Remus stared back at him alarmed.

            “Now’s not a good time,” Sirius stared, before Remus interrupted him.

            “Dumbledore’s called an emergency Order meeting. Everyone’s in the kitchen. You need to get down there.”

            Sirius was tempted to punch the wall. Of course, of all fucking nights, there had to be an emergency. He couldn’t leave Severus, but at the same time, he couldn’t forego the meeting.

            “Everything okay?” Remus asked, trying to peer around Sirius. Sirius nodded quickly.

            “You caught me at a bad time. Give me fifteen minutes.” He winked, and Remus rolled his eyes.

            “Hurry down when you’re done.” Remus sighed at Sirius’s cheeky smile, and turned away. Sirius slammed the door shut, breathing heavily. He spun around, unsure of what to do. However, his mind blanked as hands dug into his hips and pushed him hard against the wall. He groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

            “I’m not sure what game you’re playing at,” Severus whispered in Sirius’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. Severus leaned forward and nipped at Sirius’s ear. “But I always finish what I start.”

            Sirius’s hands pressed against the warm flesh of the other’s man chest, but he couldn’t tell if he was pushing him away or pulling him closer. Severus smirked, and Sirius’s knees went weak.

            “Can’t…” he forced out. Severus tilted his head.

            “Can’t what?”

            “Can’t do this to you.”

            Severus chuckled and placed kisses along Sirius’s jawline. “You can do whatever you want to me,” he stated low and seductive.

Sirius felt all of his self-resolve eroding away like sand in a storm. His skin caught aflame.

            Severus continued kissing Sirius’s neck, and at one point, he bit down, forcing Sirius to stifle a moan. He licked at the pain briefly, before starting to leave a trail of open, hot kisses down Sirius’s chest. He paused halfway and wrapped his mouth around Sirius’s nipple. He teased it, and Sirius felt his knees actually give as he slumped against the wall. He groaned at the sensation, and desire flooded his brain.

            He felt Severus smile victoriously, but before he could get all the way down, Sirius reached out a grasped his hair. He would debase himself, succumb completely to Severus’s touch, but he would not allow Severus to kneel before him.

            He yanked upwards at the hair, and Severus complied. His hands remained firmly entrenched on Sirius’s pelvis, forcing Sirius to shift his hips to indicate his intention. Severus immediately picked up on it and wrapped one hand around Sirius’s aching erection. He began stroking languorously and Sirius whined at the subtle pressure. He tried to move against Severus, but he firmly held down Sirius’s hips and prevented any extraneous movement.

            Sirius gasped, yanking Severus’s toward him. One arm threw itself around Severus’s shoulder and draped over his back. The other wrapped itself around Severus’s waist and tightened the embrace so their bare chests heaved against one another. Severus buried his face into the crook of Sirius’s neck and kissed sloppily.

            The light pressure and slow strikes were driving Sirius mad, and he struggled fruitlessly against Severus’s hold. Just when Sirius thought he wouldn’t be able to handle it anymore, Severus increased the pressure and quickened the strokes. Sirius cried out, throwing his head back against the wall. His mouth agape, he stared unseeingly at the ceiling.

            “Faster,” he choked out, and Severus complied. His hand sent busts of pleasure searing through Sirius and the coil of heat inside his stomach tightened. The delicious friction consumed Sirius’s mind.

            Severus increased his pace once again, and Sirius buried into Severus’s shoulder. He bit down at the juncture where the neck met his shoulder as he tried to stifle the noisy sounds. The moment suspended itself, but then, Sirius felt the crashing of an orgasm beating against him. Severus must have noticed, because he bit down hard on Sirius’s neck, and Sirius forfeited any attempt to delay the inevitable. He gave himself over the bliss, shuddering against Severus. He saw bright light against his eyelids, and his mind flourished in the pleasure.

            The sensation eventually drifted away, and Sirius nearly collapsed against Severus. His whole body felt heavy, but lightness darted across his skin, leaving him as a contradiction. His body ached for Severus’s touch but the hazy afterglow had descended upon him, and he sighed.

            Before he could collect his thoughts, Severus had started pulling Sirius to the bed. Alarm disrupted Sirius. Once he was in bed, they was no telling what he would do to Severus. The same Severus who thought he was sixteen years old. The same Severus who didn’t recognize him or sold his body. He couldn’t let that happen.

            With one fluid motion, Sirius pushed Severus against the wall. He gasped in surprise as Sirius once again closed the distance and brought his hand down to the man’s cock. Drawing on his memory, Sirius began to stroke steadily. He pulled Severus’s head down to his shoulder.  

            Replicating Severus’s movements, he began slow but picked up the pace. The other man curled into him, and his hands scrabbled against Sirius’s back and clutching at his hair. He emitted sighs and soft moans, sending a heady feeling coursing through Sirius.

            He quickened the pace again, and now Severus whimpered. The man was close, and Sirius knew it. With a few strong strokes, Severus suddenly cried out as he orgasmed. His nails dug into Sirius’s back, and Sirius winced slightly at the scratches. After a moment, Severus relaxed against Sirius. They held each other, and Sirius luxuriated in the sensation of the other man pressed tightly against him. ‘

            And then horror crashed into him. He abruptly pulled himself away, scrambling to find space. His breathing became erratic, he could hear his heartbeat, and fuck, his mind was moving so fast he could barely keep up. Everything had happened so fast, he couldn’t make sense of it but the horrible itchiness had come back and he wanted nothing more than to peel his skin off to escape it.

            His knees gave out and he crumpled to the floor. He dug his hands into his hair and pulled, hoping the pain could cut through the confusion and panic. He wanted to scream, do something, but he couldn’t move. Weights pushed against him in every direction and the air had disappeared from his lungs.

            He dug his palms into his eyelids, desperate to ride the overwhelming panic out. He tried to remember if he had managed before, but all he could think of was the coldness that would settle into his bones. The coldness that sunk deep inside him and stilled his mind until he could think of nothing and no one. He would become a shell of himself.

            He didn’t want that to happen again, but he had no control over the terror. It swept him away by its sheer force. He could only hope it wouldn’t get any worse.

            Terror continued to course through him, but luckily, it didn’t appear that the Coldness would make an appearance. Instead, he felt himself regaining moments of clarity as he felt his heartrate slow. He breathing slowly eased up, and he gasped for air. He lay on the floor as the panic subsided and he returned to his shattered senses.

            When he felt stable enough, he pushed himself up. He sat, focusing on his breathing. Thoughts continued to scurry though his mind like beetles, and it took him some more time before he could form cognizant thoughts.

            First, the events of the night terrified him. He could feel a distant darkness rearing up inside of him and he didn’t have any idea how he should handle it with Severus. The man had fucked him while thinking he was a sixteen year old prostitute. And Sirius had let it happen and had liked it but oh, it was so wrong. And so, so bad. And he would give anything to have had it never happen.

            And what was he supposed to say to Severus? Sorry I had sex with you when you were mentally unstable? Sorry I took advantage of you? Sorry that I…

            Sorry I fucked you without your consent? How could Sirius pretend that this wasn’t rape? That he hadn’t violated Severus without any consent?

            His mind stuttered around that terrible world and he felt sick, but he wouldn’t lie to himself. He…He had never thought…

            Pounding on the door broke through this thoughts and he jerked up.

            “Shit,” he hissed. He had forgotten about Remus and the Order, but how he could go out there and confront them?

            “Sirius, if you don’t open up in the next five seconds, I’m coming in,” Remus called out. Sirius winced at the harshness of Remus’s tone.

            He pulled himself to his feet and glanced at the pale figure huddling on the bed. Severus, still shirtless, had pulled himself into a tight ball and wrapped his arms tightly around his body. He looked like he was shaking.

            Sirius could barely stand the sight ( _he had done this to him)_ but alarm struck at the thought of Severus walking down to the kitchen and into the Order meeting as this agonized teenager. Sirius couldn’t let it happen, so calling out to Remus that he would be a few seconds, he hurried to the bed.

            “You will not leave this room, understand? I’ll be back, but you will not and cannot leave,” he hissed, trying to sound firm and in control. He was relieved when Severus muttered out a yes. It made him feel sick to his stomach, but he had no other choice.

            He quickly ran his hand through his hair and attempted to hide any indication of what had just happened. He didn’t know how successful he was, but it didn’t matter because he had to get to Remus before Remus got to him.

            Shoving the recent events into the crevices of his mind, he made it to the door and slipped out. Remus was standing there, and he looked pissed.

            “What the fuck, Sirius? I tell you there’s an emergency Order meeting, and you take thirty more minutes to do the fuck knows what? We’ve been waiting for you.”

            Sirius winced. “I’m sorry Remus, I just got caught up in something I…I’m really sorry.”

            “What, your pornos? Seriously, Sirius. Start acting like an adult.”

            “I…you’re right. I’m sorry.” There was nothing else he could say. He feeble attempts at an apology didn’t appear to lessen Remus’s anger, and Sirius could feel shame puddling in his stomach.

            “That doesn’t cut it any longer.” Before Sirius could respond, Remus turned away and started heading down the stairs. Sirius followed even if he wanted nothing more than to ram himself into a wall and never get up again. Shame and guilt and fear and hatred clawed inside him, and he hoped the meeting went fast so he could drink himself into a stupor.

            When he entered the kitchen, he was met with the Order sitting and staring at him. He avoided their gazes and took an empty seat next to Remus. Remus still radiated anger, his body tense. It was the usual group tonight -- Moody, Shacklebolt, Fletcher who always creeped Sirius out, Tonks with vibrant blue hair, Minerva, Flitwick, and Molly and Arthur. With his hand crossed in front of him, Dumbledore sat at the head of the table.

            Sirius tried to focus instead on Albus who sat at the head of the table and stared quizzically at Sirius. He blinked and looked away.

            “Took you long enough,” Moody growled, his arms crossed.

            “I’m sorry about that,” Sirius apologized, staring at the table. He swallowed thickly, guilt and shame curdling in his stomach.  

            “Mind telling us why you made us wait so long?” Moody continued, his voice scathing.

            Sirius almost let out a bitter laugh. If only they knew…but no, they could never know. He had to play it off. He would have to keep Remus believing that Sirius was just jerking off like an irresponsible teenage boy, even though he wanted to prove himself as better.

            Sirius searched for words to convey this sentiment without sounding sleazy, but Remus cut him off.

            “He was being Sirius, okay,” Remus snapped. Sirius winced. “It doesn’t matter anymore, so let’s just move on. Are we waiting for anyone else?”

            “Even though you were late, I’m glad you could join us, Sirius,” Dumbledore began, staring intensely at Sirius. His eyes conveyed an emphatic understanding, making Sirius wanted to laugh at the irony. Dumbledore probably thought Sirius and Severus were sharing a heart to heart moment, instead of Sirius fucking raping the other. It made him sick.

            Dumbledore paused a moment, glancing around the table. “It looks like we are still waiting for Severus. I suppose I can brief him tomorrow. He may be busy.”

            Shacklebolt shifted. “You really think you should be telling him this information? If it so sensitive?”

            “Yes.” Dumbledore responded shortly.

            “You’re far too trusting, Albus. For all we know, he could be kneeling to Voldemort as we speak,” Moody cut in.

            “Alastor, you know my thoughts on this subject. Tonight is not the night to repeat this conversation.”

            Moody just shrugged.

            “If there’s nothing else we’re waiting for, Albus, would you mind telling us what the problem is?” Minerva asked.

            “It’s come to my attention that Voldemort has plans to seize control of a dangerous weapon, one that could decide the fate of the war.”

            “Shit,” Tonks muttered.

            “Indeed. The weapon itself is a prophecy delivered 14 years ago that revolves around Voldemort. With that knowledge, he would be well equipped to win the war.”

            “So we can’t let him get it,” Tonks continued.

            “No. We cannot.” With that, Dumbledore launched into an extensive description of the situation and plan to guard the prophecy. Sirius initially paid attention but his mind kept drifting back to _that_ and he couldn’t maintain focus. And even if he could, there was nothing he could do anyway.

            The meeting dragged on, and Sirius faded in and out of the discussion. Everyone else threw in ideas and appeared animated and focused. Sirius wished he could join in, but he just couldn’t. It was like his mind was flapping in the wind – sometimes he could maintain focus while a quick breeze would ruin his attention.

            He caught Dumbledore glancing over at him, appearing concerned. He bloody well should be.

            The meeting was nearing around an hour, and Sirius knew he needed to quickly find an excuse to leave. For all he knew, Severus was shaking with fear in his bed. He didn’t think he could look the man in the eye ever again, but he had to do something else about this situation.

            He searched for an excuse that wouldn’t result in everyone hating him, but before he could find one, something much worse happened. Something Sirius had been fearing the entire meeting.

            The door opened and in walked Severus Snape.

            Sirius had his back to the door, but he knew instantly who it was. Panic surged through him. He had to get Severus out of here. He shot up and turned around. His eyes landed on the man and he faltered. He would never be able to redeem himself for tonight, and the thought physically hurt.

            He pushed it aside. He had to get Severus out of this room before he said anything that could reveal his mental state. Sirius had promised to protect the secrets they shared, so he owed it to Severus.

            “Don’t you dare say anything,” Sirius hissed, trying to properly convey contempt. He needed a reason…oh, of course, he could always use Harry. “I heard about what you did to Harry, and we need to have a long talk, comprende?” He stormed over to Severus, well aware he was making a scene.

            He threw open the door, and grabbed Severus’s arm. He didn’t want to touch him, but he had to get him to leave. And if it was physical, it could mean an excuse for them to fight outside.

            He stared to pull the man to the door, but Severus stood firm.

            “Don’t touch me, Black,” Severus hissed, and Sirius immediately withdrew his hand. _Fuck_ he thought. This wasn’t good.

            “We need to talk,” Sirius tried again. He tried to make eye contact but Severus averted his gaze.

            “In the middle of an emergency Order meeting? I thought you would have your priorities straight, but it looks like you’re still the ignorant bully you always were.” Severus’s tone was scathing, and Sirius winced. This…this wasn’t what he expected. He knew he deserved Severus’s hate; he just hadn’t expected to hurt him so much.

            “I…” Sirius began. He tried to summon malice and contempt to color his words, but all he could feel was desperation and shame.

            “Get out of my way, Black,” Severus hissed. Sirius stood helplessly.

            “Severus, Sirius, please,” Albus interjected. “Calm down the both of you. There’s no need for such tension.”

            Severus’s countenance twisted at the words and he let out a short, bitter laugh. “Really, Albus. There’s no need for this tension? You don’t understand any of this, old man.”

            “Watch what you’re saying, boy,” Moody growled. Severus laughed dismissively, and finally, his gaze flickered over to Sirius.

            “You’re no better than any of them,” Severus stated, and Sirius winced.

            “I’m sorry,” Sirius whimpered. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m so sorry.”

            “You didn’t mean for it to happen? Don’t lie to me, Black.” His eyes flashed with contempt.

            “I’m not,” he whispered. “I would do anything for that to have not happened, and I’m so sorry it did. You deserve better than that.”

            Severus took a step closer, a new wariness entering his eyes. Sirius tried to swallow.

            “What are you talking about, Black?”

            “What are you talking about?” he shot back before he could think of his words.

            “What do you think I’m talking about? You finally achieved what you wanted from the start, and you’re sorry for it?” Severus growled. “What, did you want me running back to you?”

            Sirius stared at the man, aghast. “You…I never…shit, you think I planned this.”

            “You expect me to believe you didn’t? You waited until I was incapable of…and now you expect me to believe any differently?”

            “Shit, Snape. Just stop for a moment, please.”

            “I don’t recall you stopping,” he whispered, low enough so only Sirius could hear.  

            Sirius winced. “God fucking dammit Snape. I’m still trying to understand what the fuck just happened too, so don’t spring this shit on me.”

            “Severus, Sirius,” Albus stated steely, diverting their attention from each other. “You need to clear out this misunderstanding. And you need to do it without disturbing a high profile Order meeting. So please think what would be your best course of action.”

            “I have nothing more to say to him,” Severus began. “I apologize for interrupting the meeting.”

            “Like fuck’s sake, you don’t.”

            “Black” Severus sighed, “Just because you showed your true colors, doesn’t mean you need to continue acting like a petulant child.”

            Anger surged within him, and Sirius did what he did best when he got angry – act like a stubborn mule who refused to give up a fight.

            “Oh, fuck off, Snape. You think I wanted any of that to happen? Fuck no. Shit happened, and you put me in a situation where I didn’t know what the fuck to do. So I fucked up, okay? I did something I shouldn’t have done, but I tried to stop it. And sure, that doesn’t mean shit at the end of the day, but what happened, Snape, was bad for both of us. Really fucking bad. Full blow panic attack bad, so don’t you dare try to put all the blame on me.” Sirius’s voice kept on rising, and before he knew it, he was shouting.

            “Put the blame on me?” Snape exclaimed. “You pathetic excuse for a man, you fucking coward. You can’t hide from what you done, not anymore.”

            “You were fucking sixteen!” Sirius screamed, and oh god, he had lost it. He couldn’t control himself and it felt like everything was falling apart within me. He wanted it to end and the anger was his only solace.

            Snape froze. “What did you say?”

            “You were sixteen,” Sirius heaved. “And I didn’t know what else to do.”

            “I…” Snape began, looking uncomfortable. “Are you sure about that?”

            Sirius nodded, the fight suddenly leaving him. He felt empty and cold. “Yes, that’s what you told me.”

            “But…”

            “I’m too tired to do this anymore, Snape. I can’t change what happened.”

            Severus stood silently, staring intensely at Sirius. Sirius didn’t bother meeting his gaze. Instead, he leaned back onto his chair. Exhaustion gripped at him, and a sudden urge to cry came upon him. He wanted to be alone.

            He turned to look at the rest of the table and sighed. “I’m sorry about this. I didn’t mean to distract from the meeting.”

            Remus lay his hand on Sirius’s arm. “Hey, it’s okay. I don’t think we realized this had been bothering you. We’re here to help.”

            He was on the verge of a breakdown, but he managed to keep himself together. “Snape came to me when he was injured a few days ago, and during that time, we recounted some of our past. It didn’t go that well, and things got out of hand, and now there’s this. So that’s what happened, and again, I’m sorry it had to come to this.”

            Albus shook his head. “It’s okay, Sirius. Please go get some rest. The morning will be brighter.”

            Sirius nodded, and brushing past Severus, he left the room. He couldn’t go back to his room, especially not this soon, so he turned to Regalus’s door and entered. The bed was old and dust lingered in the corners of the room. Sirius didn’t care, though, and he headed straight to the bed. He curled up into himself and finally let himself cry.


	8. Exquisite

             _Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic._

_The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde_

* * *

 

            Severus hated being the center of attention. For as long as he could remember, that position meant danger, whether it be the Marauders or the Dark Lord. It made no difference; if people paid attention to him, he had failed.

            With the room’s focus directed on him, he knew tonight had gone terribly wrong. And it had, even if his memory blurred around the edges. It happened after his headaches sometimes, and he usually put no stock in it. Tonight, though, he needed to remember.

            He took a seat before anyone could comment, skirting away from everyone’s gazes. He couldn’t go back to Sirius, not yet, but he didn’t want to be alone. It always so much worse when he was alone.

            “Severus,” Albus began.

            “Yes?” he inquired softly.

            “You can leave if it would be more convenient. I can fill you in tomorrow.”

            He shook his head. “It’s fine. I don’t mind staying.”

            “Well, do you mind telling us what exactly just happened?” Moody interrupted.

            “I believe Black explained it succinctly.”

            Moody snorted.

            “Alastor,” Albus stated, “we’ve had enough of that for tonight.”

            “I agree,” Molly chipped in. “We need to focus on the business at hand. What exactly are we going to do?”

            Severus glanced over at her. He sat directly next to her, and in a display of kindness, she had reached underneath the table and gently grasped his hand. Her touch comforted so he let it remain.

            Albus nodded grimly. “Thank you, Molly. Here’s what I had thought of so far. Please speak up with any suggestions.” For the next hour or so, he launched into a description of his plan, for which there were frequent interruptions and discussions. Severus maintained a façade of focus, but his mind remained distant.

            His mind cycled through the events of the last few hours—or at least what he thought were the events. He remembered a headache and Sirius getting him into bed. And then darkness and sleep, but when he woke up…

            That’s what he couldn’t understand.

            He didn’t know where Sirius was now, and he couldn’t shake his concern. At the same time, if his interpretation of the events were true, he would never want to see Sirius again.

            The confusion and fear and shame tore at him, but he sat silently, waiting for the meeting to end.

            Eventually, there was nothing left to say. Molly gently squeezed Severus’s hand, before getting up and flooing away with Arthur. People took their leave, and even though Severus was usually the first one gone, he made no attempts to move.

            Then it was him, Albus and Remus, and no one seemed intent on moving. This was shaping up to be an uncomfortable conversation, but Severus couldn’t get himself to leave. If he left, he would be alone. On a night like this, that would be a severe mistake.

            “Severus, my dear boy, what’s wrong?” Albus asked softly. He didn’t seem to have any problems with Remus remaining, so Severus didn’t let it bother him.

            “I don’t know. I don’t know what happened,” he choked out. Remus stood and got him a glass of water, of which he took a grateful sip.

            “That’s okay, my dear boy. Just do your best.”

            “We…” he tried, but the words failed him.

            “You went to him, right? After I saw you?” Albus prompted, and Severus nodded quickly.

            “Yeah, I did.”

            A look of surprise crossed Remus’s face, but he remained silent.

            “I fell asleep with him, but when I woke up, he…Albus, I think I need to see him.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yes, yes. Because I might be wrong about what happened, and if I am, I need to see him.”

            “I can go get him, Albus,” Remus said.

            “That might be best, but please Severus, what happened between the two of you?” Albus’s voice had deepened with an unexpected sadness.

            “He…I think he sexually assaulted me” Severus forced out, the words burning his tongue. The sheer nerve of it shocked him; he never confessed secrets like this, but the night was still too fresh and the feelings too vivid. It no longer became something he could hide away. He had been freshly wounded and the blood still seeped out.

            Remus let out a startled gasp. The furrows on Albus’s face deepened, and Severus cursed himself. He didn’t need to cause Albus any more pain, but goddammit, Sirius had fucked up his emotions in a way he didn’t know yet how to handle.

            “Do you still want to see him?”

             “I don’t know what else to do,” he whispered.

            “Then, Remus, could you please get him for us?”

            “I…sure,” he managed. Pain flitted across his face. “I’m sorry, Severus. I didn’t think Sirius would do something like this.”

            Severus tilted his head in acknowledgment, and Remus quickly left the room. Albus stood up and moved to the chair next to him.

            “I never meant for something like this to happen, my dear boy. I am so sorry it had come to this.”

            “It’s not your fault.”

            “Still, Severus. If I had known…”

            Severus shook his head weakly. “Please don’t blame yourself for this.”

            “Thank you for telling me. It’s brave of you, and I’m proud of who you are.”

            “Please don’t say that.”

            “Severus, there’s nothing else I would want to say.”

            The door burst open, and Sirius charged in. Remus closely followed. He faltered when he saw Severus.

            “Sirius, if you have nothing to say that could resolve this situation, I want you to leave now,” Albus stated coldly, and Sirius winced.

            “No, I need to understand what happened.”

            “I think we know what happened,” Remus cut in, his tone scathing.

            “No, no, there’s too much I don’t know. Please, Sev. I need to understand.”

            “You…I think you sexually assaulted me.” The words were no easier the second time.

            Sirius startled, but pulled a chair out and sat down across from Severus.

            “How?” he stated bluntly. “How did I assault you?”

            “Isn’t it obvious?” Remus exclaimed. “Are you so idiotic that you don’t know the difference-“

            “Be quiet, Remus,” Sirius commanded. “Sev, how did I assault you?”

            “I remember waking up, Black. You somehow pushed me against the wall where you made me give you a hand job before you returned the favor. But at no point, was I in control of my actions or remember giving consent. Everything was blurry and faint, which leads me to conclude you drugged and raped me. Do you need anything else?”

            “Sirius, please be careful about what you say,” Albus warned. Sirius swallowed thickly.

            “Do you remember saying anything to me? Anything at all?”

            Severus hesitated. “No, I don’t. But you…you said I was sixteen. What did you mean, Black? And don’t you dare lie to me.”

            Sirius glanced around the room. “Is it okay if they hear?” he asked, gesturing towards Albus and Remus.

            “Say it, Black,” Severus conceded.

            “Okay, okay. You know how you had that headache?”

            “Yes.”

            “Well, I got you into bed and I sat down next to you. You fell asleep at some point, and so did I. But you woke me up, and I’m not sure when, but you were,” he coughed, “you were touching me. Like sexually. And I didn’t realize at first, but when I did, I freaked out. Okay? I freaked out, Sev, and I got out of bed as fast as I could, but something was wrong with you. There was something off, and I didn’t know what.”

            “Why would you think that?” Albus interrupted.

            “Because… fuck, I’m sorry Sev. You kept on trying to get me back into bed with you. And I almost did, but I stopped myself. And god, I didn’t know what to do, but I could feel something was wrong, so I asked you how old you were. Because you seemed different, and I didn’t know why.”

            “And I said I was sixteen?” Severus’s asked, his voice low.

            Sirius shook his head. “You said you were eighteen, but I could tell you were lying. And so I asked again because I didn’t know why you would lie about that. And that’s when you said you were sixteen.”

            Severus had paled considerably.

            “And I still didn’t know what that meant, so I asked if you knew me, and you said no, you didn’t, but that I was one of your…”

            “Yes, I see. And then we…?”

            Sirius nodded, eyes downcast. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I tried to stop it from happening, but I just couldn’t.”

            “It’s okay, Sirius,” Severus consoled, and Sirius’s gaze shot up.

            “No, it’s really not. I took advantage of you, Sev. That’s never okay.”

            “I don’t think I left you with much choice, did I?”

            “It doesn’t matter.”

            “Yes, it does. You can’t blame yourself.”

            Sirius let out a bitter laugh. “Of course I fucking can.”

            “You can’t,” Severus stressed, “And remember what we promised? That we would try?”

            “Yeah,” he admitted.

            “As long as you tried, that’s a lot more than I can say for others, okay? You were in a situation with no easy way out, Sirius, but you did more than I could have asked for.”

            He scoffed. “Still doesn’t change it.”

            “No? Then do whatever you want but know that I don’t blame you for it and I forgive you. And that I don’t want this to end it.”

            “You still want to see me? After that?”

            “Yes.”

            “But, Sev…”

            “No, Sirius. This isn’t up for debate.”

            “Fine,” Sirius conceded. “But I’m still sorry.”

            “I’m sorry,” Remus interjected, “but what exactly is happening?”

            Sirius cast his gaze over at Remus and let out a dejected chuckle. “It’s nothing really. Just something to kill some time,” he lied, glancing over at Severus. Severus stared back at him, understanding filtering through his expression.

            “Sirius…”

            “My dear boys, I am very much on the same page as Remus,” Albus interrupted. “And while you have no obligation to tell us, I would greatly appreciate it.”

            Sirius shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well-“

            “It is our belief,” Severus began, “that this information could pose a threat if the Dark Lord ever caught wind of it, either from legilmency or any other means. So keeping it as secretive as possible is preferred.”

            Sirius ducked his head in shame. “I didn’t mean to involve you, Remus.”

            “However, I have faith in keeping this secret within this room, and as such, Sirius, if you would like to tell, Remus you can,” Snape continue, ignoring Sirius’s comment. “But Remus, please understand that no one else can know.”

             “Of course,” Remus replied.

            “Thank you, Sev,” Sirius said, gratitude filling his voice. He cleared his throat and launched into a filtered explanation. Severus appreciated him leaving out the more personal details, but he provided enough of an explanation that the new turn in their relationship was clearly defined. Sirius reached the prior few hours in his narrative and he paused.

            Albus looked at him closely. “And this led you to the situation that you were fighting over at the Order meeting.”

            Sirius nodded. “I’m sorry for causing such a scene, but I needed to get Sev out of the room.”

            “Why?” Albus cut in. Severus paled.

            “Huh? Well, I was worried for him and wanted to make sure he was okay.”

            “Severus, I don’t mean to make this uncomfortable, but I recall Sirius saying you said you were sixteen. What did you mean by that?”

            “Well, he acted like he was much younger,” Sirius answered. “And he didn’t recognize me. He said…”

            “He said what?”

            “I’m not sure it’s my place to say.”

            “Severus?”

            “It was nothing, Albus.”

            “Then why would sixteen year old you feel the need to…?”

            “I don’t know!” Severus snapped, his voice rising. His breath quickened in pace and his hands twisted together.

            “Hey, hey, hey,” Sirius consoled, reaching across the table to grasp Severus’s hands. “It’s okay. Whatever it was, it’s okay.”

            Severus let out a bitter laugh. “You think it’s that easy?”

            “No.”

            The response took Severus aback and he stared back at Sirius. Albus and Remus looked at them with concern.

            “No one is going to make you say something you don’t want. I don’t know what happened either, but I’m here for you. And we’ll figure it out together.”

            Severus choked at the words, his brow crumpling.

            “I didn’t mean to press you, Severus,” Albus stated gently. “It came from a place of concern, but I’m glad Sirius is here for you. I’ll let the two of you go back to your room if you would like.” Remus nodded in agreement.

            “Thank you,” Sirius responded. Severus remained unresponsive. Remus placed a gentle hand on Sirius’s shoulder and it seemed to ease a weight on his shoulders.

            It was time to get Severus back into the bedroom, so Sirius slowly stood up and ushered the silent Severus upstairs. He didn’t put up any resistance, and they were soon back in the room that Sirius wanted to expunge from his memories. He couldn’t come to terms over what had happened.

            He brought the man over to the bed and sat down. After a moment, he lay down, drawing Severus close to him. The man shuddered, apparently lost in a reverie of memory.

            Exhaustion tugged at Sirius, but he didn’t relent. He still didn’t understand everything that had happened, especially in reference to what Sev had said. By the time morning came around, it may be too late. Severus could shut down again, and he would never find out what happened. Even if he had to prey on Sev’s apparent weakness, he couldn’t bear not understanding the full extent of the events of tonight.

            With a deep breath, he drew Severus even closer. “Hey,” he whispered, “what’s wrong?”

            Severus sharply drew in a breath but remained silent.

            “I won’t make you say anything, but do you think you could do it for me? You said you were sixteen, Sev, and I’m scared to know what you meant.”

            “Then why are you asking?” Severus growled. His voice lacked malice, so Sirius continued.

            “Because you also said I was a client, Sev. And I don’t know what that means either.”

             “It means exactly what you think it means,” he hissed.

            “From what I can gather, it means that I paid to have sex with you. But I don’t understand…”

            “What is there for you to understand?”

            “Why does a teenager think he needs to sell himself?” Sirius asked bluntly, too tired and curious to care about tact. Severus stilled beside him.

            “It’s not something I can say.”

            “Please…”

            Severus remained silent next to him, and the minutes drew themselves out. Sirius could feel his eyelids drooping, and too tired to press on, he almost allowed himself to succumb to sleep. Severus’s voice jerked him awake.

            “It was my father,” Severus admitted, so quiet that Sirius almost missed it.

            “Your father? He was the one who…?” Sirius asked, his stomach sinking.

            “No, he never touched me.”

            “But then…?

            “He was the one who sold me.”

            “Sold you?”

            “Yes,” Severus replied, curling in tighter to Sirius. He drew in a deep breath, and then the words seemed to fall out of him like a cascade of water.

            “When I was young, my family was very poor,” he began. Sirius held onto every word. “My mother worked, but my father mostly drank. When my mother died, we lost the only source of income.”

            ‘My father tried to get jobs, but he couldn’t keep them. He needed money to drink, and he got bad when he didn’t have any,” he whimpered, and Sirius instinctively pulled him closer.

            “Father got more and more desperate. One day,” Severus’s voice cracked, and he shuddered underneath Sirius’s grasp. “One day, I was sitting in my room, and a man I didn’t recognize came upstairs. I tried to get him to leave, but he forced me onto my bed, and he tore off my clothes, and he,” he said, the words flying out of his mouth in a fevered confession. Agony laced his voice. “He raped me.”

            “I was fifteen, and I was a…I had never done it before then. I hadn’t even kissed anyone, and when he did kiss me…it tasted like tobacco and salt, and I started gagging.” A quiet sob cut through the air, and Sirius lifted a hand to wipe the tears trailing down Severus’s face. He could feel his own throat close up and tears wet his cheek. “I’ll never forget it either. The way it tasted. I couldn’t get it out of my mouth for weeks.”

            “He gave Father several hundred for the honor.” Another quiet sob. “After that, it started off infrequently. A client every two weeks or so. I don’t know where Father found them, but they hated themselves for wanting to fuck a man, or they hated everyone and wanted to fuck someone, or sometimes, they were just lonely. It didn’t matter, because as long as they paid, they could do whatever they wanted to me.”

            “The next summer, when I was sixteen, it got worse. At least a client every few days, if not multiple. I would lie in my room, and afterward, Father made me clean up, and then he sent me back up because some other lowlife he found wanted his turn. I did everything,” he cried quietly. “And I got good at it. I would play the roles they wanted. I would say whatever they wanted me to say. I knew when to moan, when to scream, when to cry.”

            “I lost everything to him. I… can’t even begin to describe.” Sobs racked his body. “I only ever wanted it to stop. I would have given anything for it to have stopped.”

            Sirius pressed wet kisses against Sev’s face. Their tears intermixed, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to wash it all away.

            “You can’t tell anyone, please,” he begged.

            “I won’t,” Sirius promised, aghast.

            “I’m sorry this happened,” Severus sobbed. “I thought I was better than this.”

            “Shhh,” Sirius whispered. “I’m here. I’m here now.”

            “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”

            “Never,” Sirius promised and he could feel that word striking deep within his soul.

            Severus continued to cry beside him, and Sirius held him close and pressed soft, earnest kisses against the man’s tortured face. At some point, they both succumbed to sleep, remaining closely intertwined with one another.

* * *

AN: I won't be posting for the next month or so because I'll be traveling and won't have much access to my computer. However, I will be continuing this story in February (I have about 5 more chapters written and am in the process or writing more). On that note, I'll see all of you in the 2019! 


	9. Aftermath

            _I don't think I could love you so much if you had nothing to complain of and nothing to regret._

_Doctor Zhivago, Boris Pasternak_

* * *

 

        Severus woke up slowly, distracted by a faint pulsing in his temples. The headache had run its course, and it appeared the worst was over. He was grateful, and he allowed himself to sink deeper into Sirius’s heat before letting his eyes close again.

            Sirius shifted beside him, and Severus furrowed his brow. Something lingered on the edge of his perception, but he couldn’t nail it down. He would get like this sometimes after the migraines. The past nights would seem fuzzy, indistinct, but he ascribed it to the pain. And in the state he was last night, he doubted the capability of his mental prowess. It was probably minor, probably something Sirius had said to him.

            Speaking of Sirius, the man beside him shifted and yawned. He reached up to rub his face, and Severus scowled when the arm bumped into him.

            “Good morning, Black,” Severus drawled. “Sleep well?”

            Sirius’s gaze shifted towards him, and the look made Severus pause.

            “How are you feeling?” Sirius inquired, his voice rough and untested.

            Severus sat up and climbed out of bed. “As well as can be expected. The migraine has largely passed, thankfully.”

            “Yeah,” Sirius exhaled. “And about everything else?”

            Severus stared at him quizzically. Maybe this is what had faded into the hazy horizon of his mind. “Everything else?” he repeated dryly.

            Sirius looked at him blankly. “Yes.”

            Severus shrugged. “It is what it is,” he decided on. He had no idea what Sirius was talking about, and it was much too early for him to try to deal with a tearful confrontation of something he couldn’t remember.

            “It is what it is,” Sirius repeated flatly. Severus nodded before turning to the bathroom.

            Before he could shut the door fully, Sirius had leaped out of the bed and wedged his hand between the door and the doorframe. Severus stepped back startled. “What is it?” he hissed.

            “Tell me what happened last night.”

            Severus stared back silently. “Why?”

            “Because for some reason, I don’t think you know. Or you wouldn’t be acting so damn casual about it.”

            “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it.”

            Sirius shook his head. “Too bad. I need to hear you say it.”

            “How about you fuck off, Black?” Severus scowled. “Or do you need to jump on me so early in the morning?”

            Sirius let out a frustrated growl.  “Why is nothing easy with you?” he muttered. “What happened last night, it’s not something you can ignore.”

            “You underestimate me.”

            Something dark and heated overcame Sirius’s eyes and before Severus could flinch, the man had leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss on his mouth. It lasted a mere second, over before it began, but it caused Severus to jump back and stare at Sirius aghast.

            He raised a hand to his lips, uncertain of whether he imagined it.

            “We’re not ignoring it,” Sirius growled, and Severus felt a flash of heat.

            _Fuck_ he thought. He didn’t know how he had managed to forget to this, because surely, this is what must have happened last night. A kiss exchanged, maybe more, he couldn’t remember. And to his dismay, he found himself quite pleased.

            “I have to brew some potions,” Severus muttered thickly, staring at the door. Sirius sighed and conceded.

            “I’m not ignoring this,” he repeated, “and we have a long talk ahead of us tonight.”

            Severus stared at him coolly, trying to hide his racing heartbeat. Sirius exited and Severus shut the door behind him, drawing in breaths of cool air. He cursed his memory; he didn’t understand how he could have blanked on something so significant.

            His hands shaking and mind racing, he quickly got ready and apparated to Hogwarts. He couldn’t confront the man again, not now. He had tonight for that.

            The day passed quickly. He made progress with his potions, finished reading some new research, and for the most part, had a fairly good day. Sirius still haunted him, but he managed to push it aside for the time being.

            At dinner, however, Albus had cast him the oddest look. Concern, confusion, and pain had all mingled together, and Severus struggled to understand the motivation behind it. Albus still didn’t know about the Dark Lord’s treatment, and he had cleared the air with Sirius. There was no conceivable reason for Albus to be especially concerned over Severus’s wellbeing. Well, except for whatever had happened last night.

            The few times Severus had experienced a migraine to such an extent, he had been alone or in a situation where it made no difference of what happened. The first migraine of this severity had been when he was fifteen after _that_ happened. Then a few times when he was sixteen, worsened by the events of the summer. The headaches would make an appearance when he became a Death Eater. The Dark Lord always seemed especially intrigued in Severus whenever he felt like his head was going to split in half due to the pain. At that point, Severus was heavily confused and in so much pain, he had no time to delve on it.

            After the first war, the headaches would come sporadically, usually minor and inconsequential. He brushed it off to the stress. Every so often, a monster of a headache would appear and his mind would bend a little too much, but he managed. There was usually nothing to remember, anyway, so it didn’t matter if he woke up hazy. But last night…last night was different. He needed to remember, but he couldn’t. That frightened him, and he didn’t know if he should tell Sirius or not.

            He hated uncertainty; it froze him to the bone.

            The night rushed up to meet him like an old lover’s embrace. Summoning his courage, Severus gripped the necklace and felt twisted away until he landed in Grimmauld Palace.

            Sirius was in his chair, reading glasses pushed up this nose and a thick book placed firmly in his lap. The title read _Doctor Zhivago_. He closed the book and put it aside.

            “Severus,” he murmured.

            “Don’t say we need to talk, because I know we do,” Severus snapped.

            “I was going to ask if you wanted a drink.”

            Severus nodded curtly, taking the seat next to Sirius. He folded his hands in his lap.

            “How are you feeling?” Sirius inquired, pouring them both a glass of whiskey.

            “Fine.”

            “Glad to hear that,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “About last night,” he paused, contemplating something. “That was the first time I had kissed someone since before Azkaban. I hadn’t meant too, but you said the contact helps with the headache.”

            Severus kept a smooth countenance. He didn’t know why a headache riddled version of himself thought it a good idea for Sirius to kiss him, but he could play it off. Claim it was an unrequired schoolboy crush, if necessary, or a simple desire for contact. It didn’t explain the kiss this morning, but at least last night made more sense.

            “I apologize for putting you in an uncomfortable situation. Rest be assured, the pain was considerable and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

            “And did it help?” Sirius asked eagerly, and Severus twisted his hands. He was dancing in a minefield and he couldn’t shake the feeling that Sirius knew something more.

            “Yes, I sometimes find human contact to help with certain types of pain. Not all of course, but I seem to associate contact with relief from the pain.” The lie slipped easily from his lips.

            “I only kissed you once; was that okay?” Sirius asked, his voice hollow.

            Severus shot him a puzzled glance. “Why would it not be? It’s not like we possess such feelings towards one another.”

            Sirius fell silent, and his breath caught in his throat. He drowned the rest of his whiskey. He stood up, shaking slightly. “It’s not like we have those feelings,” he muttered darkly, taking Severus by surprise. “I need to talk to Remus, okay? I need to sort through something.”

            “Fine, Black.”

            “Please stay, Sev. I’ll be back, but I have to sort through some stuff in my head.”

            Severus nodded, and Sirius headed towards the door.

            “Sirius-“Severus began, unsure of what he wanted to say. “This morning, you…I didn’t mind it,” he finished weakly.

            Sirius let out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t either,” he said quickly before exiting the room and leaving Severus alone with his thoughts.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Sirius ran out of the room, his mind racing. He had talked to Remus earlier today about Severus’s odd behavior this morning, but until now, he pretended it was just a fluke. Remus told him to make sure either way, so Sirius devised a test and Severus had failed miserably.

            He didn’t know how to respond. He desperately needed Remus.

            He barged into the kitchen and Remus and Tonks, sitting closely and talking intently. Sirius paused; looking back, the signs had been there. It only took till now to realize it.

            “Remus, mind if we talk? Sorry Tonks,” Sirius said in a mad rush of words.

            Remus nodded, “Yeah sure. Can you give us a minute?” Tonks nodded, and Remus left with Sirius.

            They stood in the hallway, and Sirius leaned against the wall to steady himself.

            “He doesn’t remember,” he muttered weakly. Remus’s brow furrowed.

            “At all?”

            “The headache, but nothing past that. Told him we kissed once after he told me the contact helps with the pain, and he agreed. Played along like it was nothing unusual. But nothing, nothing else.”

            Remus drew in a shaky breath. “Oh god, Sirius.”

            “I don’t know what to do, Moony. I can’t pretend last night didn’t happen.”

            “No, no, of course not. It’s not fair to you or him.”

            “But I don’t know how to tell him. I can’t-“ Sirius broke off.

            Remus nodded in understanding and lay a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “Is there any way you think you could jog the memory?”

            “I’m not sure…”

            “Albus might be able to help too.”

            “Yeah, he might,” Sirius agreed. He ran a hand across his face. “Why can’t something be easy for once? Why does everything have to be so fucking hard?”

            Remus sighed. “I don’t know, Pads.” Sirius let out a bitter sigh of air. “Is he still upstairs?”

            “Yeah, I couldn’t stand being in the room with him right now. Not like this. And I still don’t know what to fucking do.”

            Remus thought for a moment. “Tell him, Pads.”

            “What?”

              "You have to tell him. You’re only two options are to tell him or to not tell him. It’s going to eat you alive if you don’t, and its something he deserves to know.”

            Sirius stared at him wide-eyed.

            “I’m sure Albus would let you borrow his pensive, too, if you think that would be easier.”

            Sirius nodded. “You’re right, Moony. I can’t pretend everything’s fine. I’ll talk to him. Fuck.” He winced. “He’s not going to be happy about this.”

            “Do you think he’ll leave you if you tell him?” Remus asked, concerned. From what he could tell, Severus was having a huge effect on Sirius, more than Sirius would want to admit himself. He didn’t want it to end and for Sirius to slip back into the broken, bitter man he was before.

            Sirius let out a broken laugh. “I sure hope not. He’s…it hasn’t all been smooth sailing so far, Remus. We’ve had a fair share of disagreements, but he’s always come back so far. And if he wasn’t willing to end it last night then it might still be okay.

            “I’m just worried about what it’ll mean to him.” He shut his eyes, “He told me some stuff last night, Remus. Deeply, painfully personal stuff. I’m going to have to tear that all up again, and I’m worried about him.”

            Remus froze, the words catching him off guard. He had only been aware of Sirius’s newfound relationship with Snape for less than twenty-four hours, but if he didn’t know any better…

            “You care for him,” Remus stated bluntly, and Sirius blinked surprised.

            “Moony…”

            “It’s okay if you do, Sirius.”

            Sirius cleared his throat. “Everything is moving so fast, Moony. I don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want to be hurt,” he confessed.

            “Hey, I know. I know all too well. But Sirius, if you care for him, if you really care for him, you should let him know. Not now, if you don’t want, but I know you Sirius, and this won’t be something you can bury.”

            “Same goes for you,” Sirius shot back, and Remus stood abashed.

            “That obvious, huh?”

            Sirius shot him a modest smile. “I’m happy for you. Just don’t fuck it up.”

            Remus laughed. “She’ll kill me if I do.”

            “Yeah, Sev would murder me, reanimate my corpse, and then kill me again just for the hell of it if I ever fucked with him.”

             “Sev?” he asked wirily.

            “Fits him better than Snivellious now but still pisses him off.”

            Remus laughed. Sirius smiled brighter before it faded off his face.

            “I’ve got to go talk to him. Figure this all out.”

            “Tell me what happens after. I want to help you however I can.”

            “Thank you, Moony,” Sirius responded before disappearing back upstairs.

            Remus stared at the disappearing figure before returning to the kitchen and his conversation with Tonks.

            Sirius hurried upstairs, threw open the door, and was greeted with an empty room.

            “Fuck,” he muttered. He had no idea why Severus had left – perhaps the Dark Lord had called or he was starting to remember the events of the previous note. He walked into the room, sinking into the chair. A hastily scribbled noted on the table in front of him grabbed his attention.

_Dark Lord called. Will return when I can._

            Sirius sighed. At least the note cleared up his confusion, but fear punctured his consciousness. He didn’t what shape Severus would return to him tonight, but he hoped for the man’s sake, he was okay. The corresponding surge of fear and panic confirmed what Sirius was grudgingly starting to admit.

            Sure, Severus Snape was a greasy bastard, and Sirius hadn’t expected to fall in love with the man. And maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was confused and the intense proximity was resulting in the heightened emotions. Or maybe Severus had managed to force his way into Sirius’s creaky heart and rekindle something Sirius had long thought extinct. Fuck, whatever it was, he knew James would be rolling in his grave at the thought of it.


	10. Power

            _Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing._

_1984, George Orwell_

* * *

 

“Severus,” the word coiled around the room, and he flinched. “You have been quiet tonight.”

            He attempted to suppress the surge of panic that suddenly coursed through him. He glanced up and gleaming red eyes met his gaze.

            A look of irritation crossed the face. “You have nothing to say to that?”

            “I hadn’t realized, my lord. I apologize,” he replied, maintaining the eye contact. It allowed him to pretend he had some form of control.

            “You are distracted, my servant.”

            Severus hesitated, but he knew better to deny it. “Yes, my lord.”

            “Hmm,” the Dark Lord hummed, clearly waiting for Severus to elaborate. Severus thought rapidly over what he wanted to say. It couldn’t be too unrealistic or pleasing, and it needed to save him from the wrath of the Dark Lord.

            “I had an altercation with the dog, Sirius Black.” Hatred twisted the words, and Severus allowed rage to mildly contort his features. Not enough to look fake, but enough to be believable. Bellatrix hissed out of the corner of Severus’s vision.

            A faint frown appeared on the Dark Lord’s face, and Severus could feel something freeze inside of him.

            “And you believe this is more deserving of attention than me?” A cruelness had entered his voice, and the ground became unsteady below Severus’s feet.

            “No, my lord.”

            “Yet it consumes your mind.” The Dark Lord tsked. “Irresponsible, Severus.”

            The red eyes bore into Severus’s and he fought against the urge to break eye contact. He had to maintain it or else things would become much worse.

            “I apologize, my lord.  It angers me that I am fixated on it, for he is not deserving of attention.”

            “No,” the Dark Lord considered Severus for a second. Time slowed and Severus prayed it had been enough to appease him. If not…

            Severus let out a sigh of relief when the Dark Lord turned his attention toward Lucius. As long as he was no longer the center of attention, he may be able to escape tonight unscathed. The meeting continued, and Severus made sure to appear attentive. The Dark Lord fluctuated between madness, and he lost track of time.

            Finally, after what could have been hours, the Dark Lord finally dismissed them. Severus made to the door, but the cold, high voice stopped him.

            “Not you, Severus. Tonight you remain with me.”

            “Yes, my lord,” he managed as fear took root in his stomach. He tried to steady his breathing and mentally prepare himself for what was to come. A private audience with the Dark Lord was rarely pleasant.

            The other Death Eaters filtered out, and finally, the two men were left. The Dark Lord closed the gap between them and pressed a frigid hand against Severus’s cheek.

            “My dear servant, whatever should I do with you?” he murmured softly like they were lovers. His hand gently stroked Severus’s cheek. 

            Severus deigned to respond, trying to not recoil from the touch. The Dark Lord noticed his discomfort and laughed.

            “Tell me, Severus. Why do you not like my touch? Many others would be honored.”

            “I…” Severus faltered, cursing himself.

            “Do I remind you of the men your father let touch you?” the Dark Lord crooned, and Severus nearly fell over in shock. His eyes grew wide and he stared at the other man, aghast.

            “How?” he muttered weakly. The fear filtered through his shock.

            “You told me yourself.” The Dark Lord smiled wistfully. “You weren’t in your best state of mind, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

            Severus swallowed thickly. The Dark Lord’s fingers stroked gently through his hair, and he resisted the urge to run.

            “Does Dumbledore know?” A malicious glint took hold in the red eyes.

            Severus shook his head. “No, I’ve never told him.”

            “Why? Do you think he would be disgusted?”

            Severus paused, the silence acting as an answer, and the Dark Lord laughed again, high and piercing.

            “Oh, Severus. I have half a mind to rape you right now and give you something that would surely disgust him.” His grin was wild and cruel, and Severus couldn’t breathe. The Dark Lord took another step in, closing the distance between them. His lips lingered a few centimeters away from Severus’s ear.

            Severus’s eyes shut from the terror of it all, and he searched for a way to escape this. He wanted to be back with Sirius. He wanted to be safe.

            The Dark Lord bit harshly at Severus’s earlobe. He pressed a string of kissed against Severus’s jawline and then pressed a hard, cold kiss onto Severus’s mouth. His tongue pressed against the other man’s lips, forcing entrance. Panic surged inside Severus, and he scrambled to find a place in his mind where he could block everything out. He would have to shut himself down if this was to happen.    

            The Dark Lord was an angry, greedy kisser, and Severus tasted blood.

            Eventually, the Dark Lord pulled away. He regarded the man in front of him.

            “Not tonight,” he said after a minute. “Tonight, I have something else planned for the two of us.”

            Severus couldn’t stop the wave of relief from washing over him until he remembered that he was far from free. He didn’t know what the Dark Lord had planned for him, but it seemed like it would be much more elaborate than a simple Cruciatius curse. The thought froze him to his core and he started to fortify his mental defense. Pain was familiar; whatever the Dark Lord did, he would survive.

            In the space of a breath, Severus had been pushed back into a chair and black ropes had coiled forward and wrapped tightly against his body. His breath hitched. The Dark Lord regarded him impassively. He turned away, walking behind Severus and out of his line of vision.

            Severus couldn’t track his movements, so instead he focused on controlling his breathing. He counted one breath after another in a desperate attempt to control his panic. It wasn’t working.

            After the span of a few minutes, the Dark Lord reappeared in his line of sight. Severus frantically glanced over him, trying to note any differences, and his gaze halted on the needle the Dark Lord held in his right hand. It was filled with a viscous, pale white liquid – one Severus couldn’t identify.

            The Dark Lord smiled when Severus flinched. “Oh, Severus,” he scolded, his voice unhinged yet completely controlled. “In retrospect, you should have asked for me to rape you. You would have at least had some pleasure at the end of it. With this, however…” he gestured towards the needle. His smile widened when he saw Severus tremble with fear.

            “I’ve been perfecting it for the past few weeks. A pet project to stave off the boredom. I’ve used it on a few others, but I am truly curious to see how it will affect you. You are, after all, highly responsive.”

            “What’s in it?” Severus choked out. The Dark Lord let his hand drift through the bound man’s hair. The fear from him was palatable, and the Dark Lord relished in it.

            “Don’t be ridiculous. That would ruin the surprise. No, much better if you experience it yourself.” The Dark Lord brought the needle to Severus’s left forearm, letting the needle hover over the Dark Mark. His gripped the man’s wrist and noted the man’s erratic heart rate. He loved stripping control from Severus, loved making him taste fear.

            The aligned the needle with the vein and paused for a moment. He peered deep into Severus’s terrified eyes. “How fitting,” he whispered, “the Potion Master brought to his knees by what he loves so dearly.”

            He plunged the needle into the man’s arm. He watched his muscles lock and a tremor travel through his body. It took six seconds for the man to start screaming. He considered the trial a success.

* * *

 

            Severus didn’t know how it happened, but he ended up a shivering mess on the floor of Sirius’s bedroom. He felt arms wrap around him. He tried to speak, but he threw up instead, and then everything faded to black. He welcomed it.

            He didn’t know how long he remained hidden in the blackness. It was safe there, no one could touch him. He lingered there for as long as he could until the world pulled him rudely out. He gasped as memories of pain danced across his skin.

            It took a few more minutes for him to grow aware of his surroundings. He could tell he was in a bed and Sirius was lying next to him. That fact alone sent waves of relief crashing over him, and he almost burst out in sobs.

            Sirius shifted next to him, and Severus pulled him as tightly as he could against him. He ended up draped half-way across Sirius’s chest with a leg sunk between Sirius’s, but he needed the comfort, the security. He needed to feel safe and protected and this was the closest he could get after last night.

            Sirius’s steady breathing lulled him into a twilight and he eagerly gave himself over to sleep. He never wanted to wake up again, if he could avoid it.

* * *

AN: I recently finished the book  _A Little Life_ by Hanya Yanighara, and it destroyed me. It has some similarities to this story (deeply traumatic childhood experiences and a beautiful romance with two people trying to overcome that tramua) but is 1000x times better. It's what I wish I could write if I had the time and talent. So if you've been enjoying this story, do yourself a favor and check out  _A Little Life_. It will emotionally destroy you, but it's so beautifully written that you won't care.

 


	11. Shiver

 

_But what was happiness but an extravagance, an impossible state to maintain, partly because it was so difficult to articulate?_

_A Little Life, Hanya Yanagihara_

* * *

Sirius didn’t know how long he had slept, but when he awoke, Severus Snape lay across him. He had curled tightly into Sirius, his black hair falling across Sirius’s neck.

            The warmth was intoxicating, and Sirius brought a hand to lay gently across Severus’s back. The man remained fast asleep, so Sirius let it linger there.

            He didn’t even realize when he started rubbing small circles into the man’s back or when his other hand had drifted into the locks of Severus’s hair, but it felt right. He didn’t want to fight it, so he didn’t.

            As he lay there, an intense desire overcame him to touch Severus skin to skin. He wanted to feel the warmth of his skin under his fingertips. He didn’t want to make a mistake like the night before, but the temptation grew too great, and he brought his hand down to slip under the end of Severus’s shirt.

            His fingertips grazed the skin of the man’s lower back, and he pressed his palm down gently. The man’s skin was warm and surprisingly soft, and his fingertips buzzed at the sensation. He would be an idiot not to admit Severus had a hold over him. He wanted to press himself firmly against Severus and never let go. He never wanted him to show up shaking and incomprehensible in the depths of his pain again. Was that too much to ask?

            As Sirius drifted in his thoughts, he saw Severus’s eyes flicker open and his hands froze. He was crossing a line here and was embarrassed to be caught. He had no idea where Severus stood in all of it, and he shouldn’t have assumed otherwise.

            “Don’t stop,” the other man growled, and Sirius almost went dizzy with emotions. _Fuck_ he thought. He was a thirty-eight-year-old man, not a hormonal teenager.

            Sirius resumed his movements, his fingertips caressing Severus’s lower back and the other hand sifting through the man’s hair. It was intimate – too intimate, and Sirius tried to shrug away the embarrassment. It felt good, though. He couldn’t admit otherwise.

            Severus fell silent and they remained like that for several minutes. His leg was nestled between Sirius’s, and he almost wished it wasn’t. Everything was too close, too soft, too warm.

Lying there, Sirius could feel his imagination rearing up and he let gave himself over to it. It was so easy to pretend that Severus Snape cared for him as Sirius did. He could pretend there was no war, no Voldemort to cause Severus pain. Azkaban became a distant memory on the horizon. He could find peace like this. It was intoxicating.

            Despite Sirius’s best efforts, reality broke in. He could smell the hot, sticky smell of dried sweat on Severus and the man desperately needed a shower. Then of course, there was the whole question of what had happened last night. And he couldn’t forget that fact that he still needed to talk to Severus about the night before that one. Oh, and he might need to discuss his burgeoning feelings for the man.

            Sighing, he slowly shifted the other man off him. “Sorry, got to piss,” he muttered as he stood up. A faint frown graced Severus’s face.

            Sirius walked to the bathroom, did his business, and returned to the bedroom. Severus replaced him in the bathroom, and Sirius heard the sound of the shower as he paced. Thoughts stumbled through his mind; it was too early for this shit.

            After about ten minutes, the shower shut off and Severus emerged. He was neatly dressed, all evidence of the previous night washed away. He regarded Sirius coolly and Sirius could feel his heartbeat turn erratic. This was bad.

            Severus glanced at the clock. “I have to prepare for class. I’ll see you later tonight.”

            Sirius nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

            Severus stood expectantly, and Sirius knew he needed to say something. There was too much rushing through his head. There was no much he needed to tell Severus, and it sent panic curling through him.

            Severus took a step closer. “Sirius, are you okay?”

            Sirius gave a jerky nod. “I’m fine”

            “Rule number 1,” Severus chided gently, and Sirius cursed himself.

            “Okay, you got me.”

            “And…?”

            “And what?”

            “What’s bothering you?” Severus asked, seemingly exasperated.

            “Nothing much. Just have to sort through some stuff, you know?”

            “Some stuff about me?” Severus remained composed, and Sirius cursed him for that. He felt like he would fall apart at the seams at any ill-timed gesture or word.

            “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

            “That’s not an answer.”

            Sirius could feel a panic attack encroaching, and he needed this over. He wasn’t capable of handling himself now. He needed Severus gone.

            “I’ll tell you tonight, ok? Don’t you have potions you need to worry about?”

            Severus stared hard at Sirius, before reaching up to the necklace and apparating away.

            “Fuck!” Sirius exclaimed, and he wondered if it was too early to start drinking.

* * *

 

            Through the windows, one could catch the last glimpse of a dying sunset. The sky was alight with color, hues of purple and blue and red splashed across a cosmic canvas. It was stunning, but as Sirius paced Dumbledore’s office, he didn’t pay it any attention.

            Neither did Albus, who watched Sirius attentively.

            Tension radiated from the man. His movements were jerky, yet predatory. Low growls would emit from his throat.

            Albus had brewed him a cup of tea to calm him down, but it lay untouched. He felt concern for the man, especially after what Sirius had told him earlier.

            Two days ago, Albus had been disgusted and enraged by the fact that Sirius had abused Severus. He couldn’t help but blame himself for putting the two in the situation, and he felt enormous pity for Severus. He already inflicted enough harm on Severus by sending him to the Dark Lord that he couldn’t cope with the fact that he had inflicted more by sending him to Sirius.

            Then, of course, Sirius had explained his side, and suddenly, it was no longer black and white. Severus had forgiven him, and the circumstances brought up more questions than answers. The fact that Severus had said he was sixteen unsettled Albus.

            This afternoon, Sirius had contacted him and asked if he could use the pensive. Albus inquired why and Sirius’s response had puzzled and concerned him. Apparently, Severus had no recollection of that night, and Sirius, in good conscience, could not pretend it didn’t happen.

            Albus still wasn’t sure what to think of that night. Sirius had essentially sexually assaulted a person, yet it did not appear intentional. Moreover, the events of the night were so murky and Sirius appeared genuinely sorry for it that Albus didn’t know enough to draw conclusions.

            Looking at Sirius now, Albus couldn’t help but see how much Severus was affecting him. It appeared that over the past two months they had transformed from enemies to something more. Albus smiled to himself. If he didn’t know any better, they looked like they genuinely cared for one another. As he said, the line between love and hate was exceedingly thin…

            The door opened, disrupting Albus’s thoughts. Severus strolled in, irritation crossing his face.

            “What is it, Albus?” he began but froze when he saw Sirius. Sirius, himself, had ceased pacing and appeared extremely uncomfortable and tense. “What are you doing here?” Severus hissed, and Sirius flinched.

            “Severus,” Albus interjected. “Sirius required the use of my pensive.”

            “I told you we would talk tonight,” Severus scowled. Sirius ran a hand through his hair.

            “I know. But I don’t think I have it in me to tell you.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            Sirius drew in a shaky breath. “There’s a memory I need to show you. I don’t think you remember it, and that’s the problem.”

            Severus fell silent. “Is this about two nights ago?” he whispered. Albus looked at him concerned. He hadn’t been aware that Severus had any memory problems, and he prayed that Voldemort didn’t either.

            Sirius nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

            Severus crossed his arms. His brow furrowed.

            “Have you had memory problems before?” Albus asked gently. Severus rarely opened up to him like this, but Sirius appeared to have a pull on the man.

            “I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” Severus snapped.

            “Severus,” Sirius placated. His tone appeared to open something up in Severus, and Albus watched fascinated.

            “I…sometimes when I have headaches like that.”

            “How often do you have those headaches?” Albus inquired.

            “Depends. I haven’t had one for a while, but it’s usually once or twice a year. More if I’m under stress.”

            “And you had memory problems then?”

            “Well, I’m in a lot of fucking pain, so it can be hard for me to remember sometimes,” Severus snarled.

            “And you don’t remember two nights ago?”

            Severus regarded them both warily. “I don’t see why this is important.”

            Sirius stepped forward. “Something happened then, Severus.”

            Severus stared at him with distrust in his eyes. “What are you trying to tell me?”

            “It’s in the pensive. I won’t be able to…”

            “Fine.” Severus walked over to the pensive. The silky white memory swirled on top. Albus stared at him grimly. Severus would not react well to the contents, and Albus considered brewing another cup of tea.

            “Severus,” Sirius began. He stared imploringly at the man. “I’m sorry. I really am. For all of it. But I had to tell you. I couldn’t live with it if you didn’t know. And I’m here for you. I’m always here for you.”

            Concern shot against Severus’s face before he plunged it into the pensive.

            Within the span of the next fifteen minutes, Albus felt like days had passed. For Sirius, it looked like it had been years. A terrible resignation had settled across his features and he looked ready to fall over at the smallest provocation.

            At last, Severus had emerged from the pensive. He leaned against the wall, and haunting exhaustion appeared to drag at his figure. His face had crumpled in a way that Albus recognized. It occurred when Severus felt at his lowest, his most defeated.

            “Do you…” Severus choked out. “Do you mind leaving me alone for a minute?”

            “Severus, I’m not sure if that would best,” Albus responded. Severus drew in a shaky breath, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor. The wall seemed to support all his weight.

            “Severus,” Sirius began.

            “Don’t.” Severus glanced up desperately at the ceiling, agony firmly entrenched on his face.  Sirius fell silent. “I can’t be here right now. I have to go.”

            He lurched to the door, his steps shaky and unsure. As he moved past Sirius, the man shot out his hand and grabbed Severus by the wrist. He stopped in his tracks, and Sirius gently rubbed circles on the skin.

            “Stay with me, okay?” Sirius asked, his voice low. Severus cast a wild glance at him.

            “You couldn’t possibly want that.”

            “I do,” Sirius reaffirmed.

            Severus shook his head disparagingly. “Why can’t you see me for who I am?”

            “Severus, I do. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

            “How can you say that? Now that you know?”

            “It’s the truth, Sev.”

            “No, it’s not.” The self-hatred was evident.

            Albus silently watched the scene unfold.

            “What you told me doesn’t make you any less.”

            “It should. What happened to me –“ Severus broke off and brought a hand up to his mouth. “Oh god, Sirius. Oh god.”

            “What is it? Sev?”

            Albus watched with dawning horror.

            “Why did you tell me this?” The man’s tone caught Sirius off guard. Something felt off…

            “I couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen. It wasn’t fair to you or me.”

            “You shouldn’t have told me,” Severus whispered. “I don’t want to know this.”

            “I know. It was selfish of me.”

            “No, you don’t understand,” Severus muttered and he glanced desperately up at the ceiling. “Why don’t you hate me?”

            “Why don’t I…? I told you already. You…you’re incredible, Sev. I couldn’t hate you even if I wanted too.”

            “But you should,” Severus whimpered. “Oh god,” he repeated. A realization appeared to dawn on him.  “I didn’t remember.” Something terrible hid in his voice. “I never remembered after those headaches.”

            What’s wrong?” Sirius asked gently. “What is it?”

            To Albus’s horror, a laugh bubbled out of Severus. It was a terrible sound, broken and heaving. He seemed to laugh because any other alternative was too horrible to consider.

            “Jesus, Severus, what is it?”

            “It wasn’t just them, was it?”

            “I don’t know what you mean,” Sirius said, panicking.

            “The Dark Lord,” Severus forced out between each broken laugh. “Never understood why he was always interested me when I had those headaches. Guess it makes sense now.” Laughter racked his body, and Sirius struggled to absorb what Severus was suggesting. Albus felt the world close in on him.

            “Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

            “He was going to do it last night, you know?” Severus whispered, his voice taking on a conspiring note. “I thought he said it just to frighten me. He already thought it was funny how I flinched at his touch. He kissed me too. It was terrible. Not like how you’ve kissed me.” Severus thought for a moment. “He’ll rape me though. I don’t know when, but he will. I mean, I guess he already has. But he’ll make sure I remember this time.” He laughed again, unhinged. His eyes darted back and forth, and his shoulders shook with the effort of it all.

            “Sev…”

            “I’ll be okay if he does,” Severus decided. “I can leave in my mind. There’s a safe space in there and I can hide in it if things get especially bad. I would always go to my pond when I was young. But now, I think I’ll go to you.”

            Sirius felt his heart break cleanly in half.

            “You can always come to me, Severus. Always.”

            Severus heaved against him. He threw himself into Sirius’s arms and clutched tightly.

            “Please don’t leave me.”

            “I won’t. I’m not.”

            “Everyone leaves me,” Severus whimpered. “Please, Sirius, promise me.”

            “I promise, Sev. I promise with all my heart.”

            “You’re lying,” Severus accused, malice overtaking his voice.

            “I’m not.”

            “You know now. You know how dirty I am. How disgusting. How worthless. And if you don’t realize it now, you will soon. And then you’ll break that promise. As you should.”

            “No, no,” Sirius murmured. “That’s not true.”

            Severus gulped in a breath. “Yes, it is.” His tone radically shifted from desperate and earnest to cold and aloof, and Sirius jolted at the rapid change. He had forgotten how much control Severus had over the expression of his emotions because for the most part, Sirius could see past it.

            Severus pulled back from Sirius and ran a hand over his face. Something fractured lay in his gaze.

            Sirius stood mute as Severus turned Albus.

            “I’m sorry you had to witness this,” he spoke softly. “It was a moment of weakness. Please don’t worry about my wellbeing. I can handle myself.”

            Albus stood and crossed the room over to Severus. He flinched almost imperceptibly.

            “Severus, don’t apologize for this. This…” Albus felt at a loss for words, a feeling he rarely encountered. He didn’t even know where to begin, and he still couldn’t get over the fact that Severus had said he was sixteen. What did that mean?

            “You are not worthless, Severus,” Albus finally decided on. “I see the tremendous worth in you, and so does Sirius. And even if terrible things have happened to you, it makes no difference. I love you like a son, Severus, and nothing will change that.”

            Severus stood stricken. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, Albus drew him into a hug and let the poor man fold himself into him.

            They remained like that for a while; Severus pressing himself into Albus and Albus offering as much comfort as he could. Albus’s heart broke for the man, and he berated himself for not paying more attention, for not being more vocal about what Severus meant for him. It had taken his insane plot for Sirius and Severus to find comfort in one another for him to realize.

            Eventually, the sun had sunk behind the horizon and the first gleans of stars were appearing in the vast sky when Severus pulled away. He kept his face turned down, his expression hidden.

            Sirius, picking up on Severus’s body language, crossed the room. He nodded at Albus before grasping Severus’s hand. The two men apparated away, and Albus was left alone with his whirling thoughts.

* * *

 

AN: Another chapter up! I have about five more chapters to write in this story, so while a little more slow-going, an end is in sight. I've also been working on a Stucky story (Endgame wrecked me), so if you like that pairing, keep an eye out for that. And again, thank you for all your support! 


	12. Hope

  _Hope is the thing with feathers -_

_That perches in the soul_

_Emily Dickinson_

             Severus awoke with a start. He untangled himself from the blankets in one hectic movement and sat on the edge of the bed. Terror lingered in his muscles as he struggled to push past that tearing feeling he always got after the nightmares. He couldn’t remember what the nightmare had been about, and for some reason, that frightened him more.

            His movements awoke Sirius, and the man shifted sleepily over.

            “Hey,” he murmured, his eyes half-lidded. He sat up and moved sluggishly next to Severus. “What’s wrong?”

            “Nightmare,” Severus whispered. It was the first one he had with Sirius and that fact unsettled him.

            “About last night?”

            “Can’t remember.”

            “Oh,” Sirius sighed. He draped an arm across Severus’s shoulders in an almost half-hug. Severus sat disbelieving. He didn’t understand how Sirius could ever want to touch him after finding out about _that._

            They sat in silence for a while until Severus felt composed again.

            “You can go back to sleep,” Severus said but Sirius made no efforts to move.

            “Nah, wanna be with you,” he slurred.

            “Why?”  The word slipped unbidden from Severus’s lips and he prayed the other man was too sleepy to pick up on it. He wasn’t that lucky.

            “Really got to quit it with this self-hating crap.”

            Severus remained silent.

            “Wanna be with you because I need to be with you” Sirius admitted, leaning his head against Severus’s shoulder. He exhaled slowly “You slimy bastard don’t know what you’ve done to me.”  Sleep seemed to tear down any of Sirius’s filters, and Severus sat there processing his words.

            “Ok.”

            “Don’t get it, do you?” Sirius asked, leaning heavily against Severus.

            “I…go back to sleep, Sirius.”

            “Mm’kay.” The man shifted off him and flopped back onto the bed. Within a minute, he was sleeping deeply, almost as if he had never wakened up in the first place. Severus watched him for a long while as he attempted to sort everything in his head out. He felt so lost and confused, and the horror of the past few hours had yet to fully sink in. He didn’t understand how Sirius could stand sharing a bed with him after knowing he had been the Dark Lord’s…

            Severus shook the thought of his head. He had no desire to dwell on it. Instead, he lay back down and pulled himself up to Sirius. He knew it was wrong for him to continue to seek comfort from the man, but he no longer knew if he could survive these nights without him. So, while Sirius still seemed to care for him, he would take any scrap of kindness, any gentle touch. He would press them into his memory and hide them in the space inside his head where he kept everything sacred and dear. They would reside next to the memories of Lily, and the parallel didn’t fail to strike him.

            However, Lily had never known the full extent, not like Sirius did. She had known his father was an alcoholic, known he was abusive but had never understood the measures his father would take to inflict pain. She knew his mother had died, but now how; he had told her it was a heart attack. And maybe Sirius didn’t know it now, but Severus was under no delusions that he could keep it hidden from him. Sirius already knew about _that_ which, to Severus was more than enough.

            Severus had utilized every skill of his to deceive and lie to prevent Lily from finding out about _that_. The shame and disgust had taken a physical presence, and he did everything he could to hide from it. He could see the dirt caking his skin, even if no one else could, and he was so worried that if Lily knew, she would see it too. If it meant lying to Lily, then so be it.

            It turned into more than just lies. His anger and desperation at himself metastasize into anger at the world, anger at Potter, and then anger at her. He grew short with her and secretive and rebuffed any attempt of hers to bridge the gap. He shied from her touch; not because she was muggle born as she had believed, but because he was so fucking dirty and he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving some of that filth on her. She would stare at him with betrayal and heartbreak in her eyes, and Severus wanted to kill himself for it. And he tried to. Several times. But something would always go wrong and he would wake up and scream at the crushing pain and hopelessness.

            It became so much worse when the hateful word slipped from his lips and she stared at him with a hatred that he knew had been building up for months. He had tried to apologize, but it was too late and too little. He thought about confessing everything to her and salvaging the one relationship in his life that meant anything to him. Cowardice held him back, and before he could work up the nerve, he was back with his father, back to the bed, back to the nightmare of an existence.

            After that summer, he became a hollow mockery of himself.

            At the end of his sixth year, Lily and Potter started dating. When he saw them together the first time, something shattered deep inside him, deep enough that no one had ever been able to reach it until then. It was all it took, though, for Severus to redouble his efforts with the Dark Lord. He took the mark not long after. He killed his father the following year. He thought it would make things better, but it didn’t.

            He remained in his twilight of existence until the prophecy and then Lily and July 31st where the hollowness gave way to unadulterated agony.

            It took years, but he had pulled himself one step at a time from the edge of the precipice. He was by no means a happy man, but he was comfortable. He took care of himself, had people he cared for and who appeared to care for him, and had something to dedicate himself too. He could even forget that his childhood had happened at all. It was the best life he could make for himself, and he was proud he had made it so far.

            And now he had Sirius.

            He was almost too scared to allow himself to hope. He also couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that this would all fall to shit and he would end up alone and deeply wounded. Or worse, he would lose Sirius just like he had lost Lily. He wasn’t sure if he could survive a second time.

            But Sirius wanted to be with him. And upon hearing those words, Severus realized he wanted to be with him in a way he hadn’t felt since Lily. Half of him wanted to hide from that realization, from the pain it would certainly bring. His other half, which he accredited to Lily, told him to overcome that fear. It told him to listen to his cobwebbed heart and put his trust in the man snoring beside him.

            He thought it over for a very long time. When morning came, he finally had an answer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter! The next one is quite something, and even though I thought about adding it to this one, I thought it would end up being too much. 
> 
> I also wrote a Steve/Bucky fanfiction for all the Marvel fans which I am in the process of publishing if you want to check that out! It got me back into writing (I cycle through spending my evenings reading, writing, or watching Netflix) so I've been working on Sleepless and bringing it slowly and surely to an end (don't worry, there are still many chapters to go and many more painful confessions :)


	13. Bare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a doozy. It contains explicit mentions of child abuse, drug abuse, and sexual abuse. It is not pleasant, so if you would rather not read, please message me and I'll send a quick summary. 
> 
> Please enjoy, if that is possible with something like this.

         _Now the waves they drag you down_  
 _Carry you to broken ground_  
 _Though I'll find you in the sand_  
 _Wipe you clean with dirty hands_

_Foals, Spanish Sahara_

* * *

 

“You awake?” Sirius asked quietly. It was about seven in the morning and the sunlight beamed through the window.

            Severus hummed in response, and Sirius shifted uneasily next to him.

            “Stop worrying,” Severus commanded lightly. “I remember this time.”

            “Oh,” Sirius breathed, at loss of what to say.

            “You did the right thing.”

            “I…I’m not sure about that,” Sirius replied, guilt striking his voice.

            “Oh?”

            “Well, it’s what they say, isn’t it? Ignorance is bliss? And I fucking ruined that for you.”

            “You’re talking about the…”

            Sirius drew in a shaky breath. “Yeah. It’s my fault you know now.”

            Severus shifted into a sitting position. “You’re thinking too much about this,” he chastised. Sirius shook his head. Guilt curled inside of him and he couldn’t stand to meet the other man’s gaze.

            “Maybe. But still, Sev, I keep on making everything worse.” His hand clenched at the sheet.

            “Why do you say that?”

            Sirius stared at him aghast. “I’m the one who raped you,” he stuttered over the word, and Severus winced. “I was the one who made you realize what Voldemort did to you. All this after I promised I was going to make up for what I did to you. So yeah, I’ve been making everything worse.” Sirius shot him a wild stare. “Voldemort…if I found out he did that to me…how are you so composed?”

            Severus stared at him, and Sirius wanted to wilt away and turn to dust. What kind of question was that? At least it proved his point that he fucked everything up.

            “I wasn’t very composed last night, was I?” Severus stated. He ran a hand across his face. “Sirius, what is done is done. I can’t change anything that has happened, and luckily I can’t remember. The poor boy it happened to – as you can imagine, he was at a point of his life where he felt no possession of his own body. It was no different than anything else than what had happened so far in his life.”

            The words baffled Sirius. “But,” he stuttered.          

            Severus brow furrowed in irritation. “Would you rather have me crying? Have me spend weeks in a deep depression? I’ve spent countless years grappling with everything else that has happened to me, and I won’t, _can’t,_ lose that.

            “Severus…” Sirius began, but Severus cut him off with a curt shake of his head.

            “It’s…I would prefer not to think so much on it. And please don’t feel bad. The good you have done for me has far outweighed any of these…unpleasant situations.”   

            “Well, I’m still sorry,” Sirius apologized. The pressure had lessened from his chest and a faint glow warmed his chest at the words. He blinked, trying to dispel it.

            “And I accept your apology. Now can we move past it? I’m rather hungry.”

            “I can go grab something downstairs,” Sirius answered. He moved to get out of bed but paused. He still had so many other questions, and he wasn’t sure he could survive a day with them bouncing around his head.

            “What?” Severus scowled.

            Sirius shook his head. “You’re going to hate me for it.”

            “Consider it already done. Now say what you want to say.”

            “The other stuff you told me...”

            “Yes?”

            Sirius gestured, trying to impart his thoughts. “You…I want to,” he sucked in a breath and without thinking, rushed the words out. “I have so many questions and I might go crazy if I have to spend all day with them in my head.”

            Severus remained silent. Sirius could feel his muscles locking up. The rejection and embarrassment were almost too much him to take. 

            “Can we at least have breakfast first?”

            Relief crashed over Sirius, quickly replaced by trepidation about the upcoming conversation. Set in his decision, he shook off his hesitations.

            “Oatmeal with fruit okay? I’ve been perfecting my presentation.”

            Severus nodded, and Sirius hurried downstairs, eager to craft his the strawberries, bananas, and blueberries into a perfect bowl of oatmeal.

* * *

 

            As Severus sat on the bed waiting for breakfast, he was almost grateful that Sirius had pulled the stunt last night. With this, the Dark Lord held one less thing over Severus. He shuddered at the thought that the Dark Lord personally sharing those memories with him.

            Undoubtedly, it had felt like hell, and he had cracked more than he had in years, but in a way, it had been freeing. He had survived and would survive again if the Dark Lord ever hurt him in that manner. It weakened the Dark Lord’s hold on him, and it made him feel giddy. He was sick of feeling powerless and lost in the Dark Lord’s grip, and this gave him a bitter victory over one of his master’s perverted games.

            He had Sirius to thank, a sentiment that he still struggled to coincide with his prior opinion of the man. His kindness and honesty had floored Severus and left him vulnerable. Sirius could have easily taken advantage of Severus by pretending nothing had happened. He could have done  _it_ again if he wanted to. But he didn’t.

            Severus wanted to curl inside himself at the mere thought of his childhood and his father. He had banished those memories to a dark, dusty corner of his mind, never to be touched again. They had remained hidden for nearly two decades, and the fact that he was even contemplating telling Sirius terrified him to his core.

            But he was so sick of living in fear, and maybe, just this once, he could rely on the kindness of Sirius to make the pain bearable. He was already in too deep, and if he drowned in it, at least it would be for Sirius.

            The door swung open and Sirius waltzed in, carrying two bowls. He set them on the nightstand.                            

            “Voila!” He exclaimed, gesturing at the amalgamation of fruit and nuts. A stupid smile lit up his face, and the absurdity of the whole situation sent Severus into a fit of giggles, which he tried desperately to suppress. Sirius only beamed wider. He propped his hand on his waist and pretended to stroke a fake mustache.

            “Az you can zee, zhere iz a beautiful arrangement of zhe fruit and zhe nuts,” Sirius evoked a terrible French accent. “I hope you enjoy ze dish.”

            Severus tried to smother his laughter, but the god awful French accent made it nearly impossible. He felt his face crinkle in laughter and Sirius joined in.

            “Enjoy your fucking oatmeal,” Sirius teased playfully, throwing a spoon at Severus. “It took me twenty years to master this art.”

            Severus couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. This was all so easy and fun; it would be such a shame when it had to end.

            And it did, of course, because Sirius clambered onto the bed, oatmeal firmly in hand. Severus took hold of his own and began to eat.

            “Good, right?”

            “Surprisingly.”

            Sirius stared at him with that stupid smile, and Severus almost reconsidered the decision he made last night.

            “So,” Sirius began, the smile fading from his face.

            “So,” Severus repeated.

            “I’m sure you know by now that I’m a curious, stubborn son of a bitch, and while I would love to let his rest, I think it would drive me up the wall.”

            Severus nodded. “You’re already insane enough as is. I would hate to make it any worse.”

            “At any point, if you don’t want to talk, you can tell me to shut the fuck up.”

            “Are you trying to tempt me?” Severus asked slyly. Sirius half-grimaced, half-grinned. “Go for it, Black.” Severus let his fear melt away from him as he focused solely on the man in front of him.

            “Ok. Umm…” Sirius hesitated. “Your mother? What was she like?”

            Severus was thrown by the line of questioning for a second. “I thought you wanted to ask about…?”

            Sirius shrugged. “Yeah, but if you’re finally opening up to me, I might as use it.”

            Severus scowled. “Don’t make me reconsider, Black.”

            Sirius’s eyebrows twitched, and Severus relented.

            “She was wonderful,” He began. “She took care of me, would tell me all these wonderful stories of Hogwarts. I loved her, and still do.” He felt a stone sink in his stomach. “She would try to shield me from my father and help me when he was bad to me. He abused her, and she wanted to desperately get away, but my father…well, he doped her up. Got her addicted to heroin. She tried to leave with me a few times, but we would always go back to him when she ran out of money and couldn’t get her next hit. He always hit her pretty badly after that, so the fight eventually left her.” A tightness clenched his throat. “She died when I was fourteen. Overdose. I was the one who found her.”

            Sirius had paused mid-bite. Severus felt so exposed his skin itched with it. He didn’t want Sirius to say anything, not about this.

            “My mom was a fucking bitch.” Sirius finally stated, and Severus stared at him in disbelief. How could this infuriating man know exactly what to do in these situations? “Wanted me to be her perfect Slytherin son, at the complete expense of my wellbeing. Had to look and be perfect, which gave me a pretty bad eating disorder that I only got over in Azkaban. And then, if I wasn’t her perfect son, she would curse me. I was eight when she first crucioed me. All in the name of making me perfect, of course. I hated her, and still do.” He shrugged. “Died when I was in Azkaban. Know you aren’t supposed to feel happy there, but that was the closest I ever got.”

            Severus sat silently, his eyes fixed on Sirius’s. He took another bite of his oatmeal and laughed uneasily. “Hey, you didn’t expect that I would make you bring up all your childhood trauma alone?”

            “No, I suppose not. Are you okay with it?’

            Sirius smiled grimly. “I might not have had as bad as you, but my childhood was far from perfect.”

            “How do you do that?” Severus asked weakly. His hands skittered against the sheets.

            “Hmm? Do what?”

            “Make this not as bad.”

            Sirius looked closely at him. His brow furrowed, and he stared down at the oatmeal. “Not sure, Sev.”

            Severus coughed uncomfortably. “Anyway,” he said, desperately needing to change the subject. “What’s your next question?”

            “Your father. What was he like?” He spoke towards the oatmeal, and Severus could feel his heart sink with the question. He knew this was coming, but it didn’t make it any less difficult.

            “My father…” he trailed off. He took a bite of the oatmeal in order to rid his mouth of the bad taste he got every time he thought of the man. “It’s not an easy thing to explain.”

            Sirius nodded sympathetically. He remained silent and let Severus collect his thoughts. Severus sighed. The promise he made to himself entrenched itself in his mind, and he focused on the fragile beating of his heart. _This is for you, Lily_ he thought.

            “My father was a muggle. He was apparently a pretty famous drummer in some muggle band, which is how my mom met him. They fell in love, and I think they were happy, for a while. Then, I’m not sure what happened, but the other members kicked him out and he turned to alcohol to cope. I was born not long after that.”

            “I don’t remember much from the beginning or when he started beating me. My first memories…” Severus trailed off, biting his lip and glancing around the room.

            “I never had enough to eat. I remember the hunger. If he did give me something to eat, it was always leftovers that he would make me eat from the floor like a dog. My mom would sneak me food, but if he found out, he beat her. I would have terrible hunger cramps, and my mom thought I was dying. He would relent then and let me eat more, but he always said he needed to discipline me. Make me strong.”

            Sirius winced at the words.

            Severus continued. “And then, of course, there was the pain. Always, always in pain. I tried to rationalize it at first, what my father did to me. I convinced myself I was what he said he was – a bad kid. If only I was better, if I could just be a good boy for him, then he wouldn’t treat me like this.”

            Severus wrapped his arms around himself. “I didn’t even know what he was doing to me was wrong until I was six and saw some boy playing with his father. He didn’t have any bruises, and they both seemed happy. I didn’t know how to handle that. My mother told me it wasn’t my fault and I was the best son she could have asked for. But my father didn’t see it like that, and I couldn’t understand why he didn’t. I still don’t…”

            “He broke my nose three times before I was eight. That’s why,” Severus whispered, gesturing towards his nose. “And I lost count over how many times he broke my other bones. Lots of ribs, I know that. He would throw me by my wrist, so that snapped a few times. And then some others,” Severus shook his head and struggled to breathe. “If it wasn’t for my mom and her magic, I wouldn’t have made it.”

            “He was so bad, Sirius. You can’t even begin…and I was so young and helpless. Couldn’t do anything to stop him. No matter what I did…”

            “He would scream my name and take his belt and beat me into unconsciousness. Sometimes he used a dog chain and that hurt, really hurt. I didn’t even know what death was, but I would have wished for it, if I had known,” Severus confessed hurried, his eyes wild. Sirius reached out a hand and grasped his hand tightly.

“And then if I cried too loudly or for whatever reason he wanted, he would throw me into the cellar and lock me in there. It was so dark in there, and I would sit huddled against the door because there were _rats._ And the rats would come up and try to crawl on me, but if I screamed, he left me in longer, so I had to sit there and _listen_. Listen to them crawling around me and try to keep them away. But sometimes, sometimes, my father left me in there for so long, I couldn’t stay awake,” Severus let out a frantic sob. Sirius pushed the oatmeal aside and pulled Severus into his arms. He let the man bury his face into the crook of his neck, feeling wetness against his skin. Sirius had begun crying himself, so he pressed his lips against the top of Severus’s head and whispered words of comfort. He didn’t know if it brought any solace, but it was all he could do.

            In a tortured voice, Severus continued. “He would press my arms against the burning stove if I got in his way. Chain me to the radiator in the winter until I couldn’t hold back my screams. He would say terrible things to me about how I was worthless and a waste of space and how I deserved what he did to me, and I believed him for many, many years. He made me into his pet,” Severus spat. “In between what he did to me, he would sometimes, very rarely, treat me like an actual son, like someone he could be proud of. I craved that approval, was desperate for it. And that made everything else even worse.” Severus broke off, his voice trembling. Sirius held him, waiting for him to continue. He had opened something inside Severus and it wouldn’t stop until it was all out.

“When I was seven, I first showed magic. My mom tried to hide it, but eventually, he found out. When he did, he took a knife and he threw me on the floor and stripped off my shirt. I didn’t know what he was doing at first, but it wasn’t long before I realized. He carved the word “Freak” onto my back. Freak.”

            His breathing became erratic and he gripped tightly onto Sirius. “You know what happened when I was fifteen. He never touched me himself. I had that small mercy. But he let his friends and anyone else who wanted to pay have their go with me. I couldn’t get them all to use condoms, so I got really sick after a while. I should…I should have told you, Sirius. I have potions that take care of it, but if you would rather not…”

            Sirius shook his head, muttering a protest. He rubbed gentle circles onto Severus’s back and pressed a soft kiss on the top of his head. Severus shuddered but didn’t pull away from him.

            “Please don’t think I didn’t want to leave. I would have easily taken to the streets over what happened in that room. But he told me if I ever tried to leave, he would find my bitch of a friend and rape her until she died. That’s why I didn’t leave. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything to happen to Lily, let alone what he promised to do. I would let anything happen to me if it meant she would be safe.”

            “I know I should have told someone,” Severus said, his voice dropping. “But I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. So I let it happen.”

            “I poisoned him when I was eighteen. It was how I proved myself to the Dark Lord. It’s the only thing I’ve done for the Dark Lord that I don’t regret.” The words choked Severus, and he broke off. He felt like someone had wrung him out and then scraped him with blunt knives, and he couldn’t stop the sobs.

            Sirius held him closely, whispering kind words. He held tightly onto Sirius to keep himself grounded. Severus could tell he was crying by the way his chest shook, and that made him cry even harder. It was a weakness, a terrible weakness, but he wasn’t strong enough to stop it.

            They remained like that, Severus awash in memories he had fought against for years and Sirius offering enough comfort to make it bearable. He lost track of time as he focused solely on the warmth of Sirius and let the memories run their course.

            It left him bare and exhausted, but with an enormous sense of relief. He was no longer alone with this terrible secret. Sirius knew, and Sirius was good to him, and maybe, just maybe, Sirius could ease his agony. It was a flicker of hope, but more than he had ever had.

            The relief made him dizzy but dried his tears. He didn’t want to pull away, but he had already relied extensively on Sirius’s kindness. He needed to take hold of himself again, so with a pained movement, he moved away and forced his emotions aside.

            “You okay?” Sirius asked, and Severus nodded weakly.

            “Please don’t say anything right now,” he muttered, cursing how his voice wavered.

            “Okay,” Sirius agreed. “I won’t.”

            Severus stared at the man across him, and he had the uncomfortable feeling of his heart swelling and his stomach twisting in knots. He knew exactly what he wanted to do to this man who allowed Severus to bear his soul but not feel pressured or judged. It wouldn’t take much for him to do. All he had to do was-

            A knock pounded through the silence, breaking the spell.

            “Fuck,” Sirius muttered. He glanced at the door and then back at Severus.

            He leaned forward and drew Severus into a brief hug. “That was brave, Sev,” he whispered. “Thank you for telling me.”

            Severus nodded, the words lightening the pressure on his chest. From anyone else, those words would have made him want to die, but from Sirius, they were genuine and kind, and he couldn’t help but value them.

            The contact ended before it began, and Sirius rushed to the door. He opened it slightly, and Severus prepared to apparate away.

            “Remus,” Sirius said. “You’re up early.”

            “Is he..? I’m sorry but this can’t wait.”

            “Yeah, of course. I’ll let you in.” Sirius moved slowly to allow time for Severus to apparate away if he desired. He didn’t, instead running a hand over his face to collect himself. He welcomed the distraction.

            Remus walked through the doorway. His face was somber. “Good morning, Severus,” he said. Severus returned the gesture.

            “What’s wrong?” Sirius asked, his voice serious.    

            “It’s Harry.”

            “Did something happen to him?” Severus could detect the barely disguised panic in Sirius’s voice.

             “A couple of dementors attacked him and his cousin. We’re not sure if they were sent by Voldemort or not. He managed to fend them off, but it’s no longer safe for him to remain there. Moody is picking him up and he’ll be here shortly. The problem is that he used underage magic and the Ministry is going to want to put him on trial. It’ll be a shit show for sure as they’ll use it as a political move.”

            “Fuck,” Sirius stated definitively.

            Remus nodded. “It could have been a lot worse.”

            “Yeah,” Sirius muttered, running a hand along his jaw. “And he’s definitely okay?”

            “As far as we know.”

            “Does this mean…?”

            “He’ll be spending the rest of the summer here, Pads.”

            A smile broke across Sirius’s face. “That’s great news. Except for the whole dementor bit and the Ministry. But it will be wonderful to have him here.”

            Remus glanced over at Severus. “I bet he’s been talking your ear off about this, huh?”

            Severus gave a curt nod. “Yes, it’s been rather annoying.” He stood up, placing the bowl of oatmeal on the nightstand. “For the trial, wouldn’t it be easy to prove self-defense?”

            “You would think so, but the Ministry is claiming that there were no dementors in the first place and as such, no need for self-defense.”

            “Oh, I see.”

            “What?” Sirius asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

            Severus sighed. “The Ministry should have control of all dementors, so the news of rouge ones doesn’t fit with their narrative. It’ll be much easier for them to paint Potter as a liar, especially with his claims about the Dark Lord.”

            “That’s bullshit.”

            “Most of the Ministry is.”

Sirius looked concerned. “So is there any chance of them actually stripping Harry of his wand?”

            “No,” Severus stated. “That would require them to anger Albus, which no one in the Ministry will want to do. Instead, they’ll do their best to tarnish Potter’s reputation.”

            “To make his claims about the Dark Lord less believable,” Remus finished.

            “And there’s nothing we could about it?” Sirius asked.

            “Unless if he was with another witch or wizard at the time, or they would accept his pensive as proof, I doubt it.”

            “Why would that matter?”

            “The underage magic provision is location dependent, not individualized. If you’re underage and with another wizard, you could easily pass it off as the other wizards magic. It’s not a secret they share often.”

            Remus blinked. “I never knew that.”

            “Yes. There’s a reason for that.”

            “So you’re telling me that every summer I could have used magic as long as I pretended it was my parents?” Sirius asked.

            “There’s the reason.”

            “How do you know this?” Remus inquired with genuine curiosity.

            “Personal experience,” Severus replied briefly.

            Remus let out a disbelieving chuckle. “I bet your students would love to know this. And unfortunately, Harry was only with his muggle cousin. Won’t work here.”

            “Then I suppose you’ll go through with the trial. The _Daily Prophet_ won’t be kind to him, but if you play it right, you can swing the story.”

            “By…?” Remus asked.

            “Find a reporter who will be willing to pose it as a cover-up. Position Potter as the victim to the Ministry’s ineptitude and the trial is their attempt to divert the blame. Or don’t worry about the optics at all. The story will surely pass quickly if the boy is innocent.”

            “Do this often?” Sirius teased, and Severus rolled his eyes.

            “The Dark Lord taught me about this when I was first starting off. You’d be surprised how important optics are to someone like him.”

            “Why the fuck would Voldemort care about his image?”

            “Because people are so scared of him they won’t even say his name,” Remus answered, glancing at Severus. “Right?”

            Severus nodded.

             “If you have any more advice about Harry, we would appreciate it. He’s only fifteen. He doesn’t need this pressure just yet.”

            “I’ll let you know,” Severus sighed. He glanced at the clock. “I believe I have to go. See you later tonight, Sirius?”

            “Of course,” Sirius replied, and if it wasn’t for Remus standing there, Severus was sure he would have done something he would have regretted.


	14. Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of suicide (both thoughts and previous attempts)

Harry’s presence elated Sirius, and he did little to hide it. It was wonderful to see the boy again after their hurried meeting at the end of the year. Harry appeared just as excited, but it was apparent how nervous he was over the trial. Sirius did his best to console him, but with the date approaching, it became increasingly harder.

            After about a week and a half after Harry arrived, he came knocking on Sirius’s door late at night. Severus had rushed to hide in the bathroom, which Sirius found oddly amusing. It was almost like he was a teenager trying to hide his illicit affairs. His amusement quickly died when he caught sight of Harry’s face.

            “Harry?” Sirius asked. Harry looked tense, his face drawn and his eyes bright with anxiety.  

            “Sirius,” Harry stuttered, standing in the doorway. “Do you think you have time to talk?”

            “Of course, come in,” Sirius replied, taking a seat. Harry followed suit. “Is everything okay?”

            “Umm…I,” Harry began, struggling for words.

            “It’s okay. Take your time.”

            “Do you think I can do this, Sirius?”

            Sirius knew exactly what he was talking about, and he struggled to think of a response.

            “I don’t know, Harry,” he responded honestly. The last thing Harry needed was a deceitful, fluffy answer.

            “But he can’t win?”

            “No. He can’t. But he’s a very powerful wizard, Harry, and a very evil one.”

            Harry nodded, his eyes cast towards the floor.

            “It won’t be easy, Harry. And I don’t know what will happen. But I do know that we are surrounded by very talented wizards, yourself included, who are going to give him one hell of a fight.”

            “But what if we lose?”

            “Then we lose.”

            Harry glanced up at him, confusion written over his face. “Sirius, that…”

            “Harry, listen to me. I live by a philosophy, and it’s probably just bullshit, but the idea is that a lot of stuff is outside of our control, so it’s up to us to make the best of it and put up the hardest fight we can. And that’s what we’re going to do. And if everything wills it so, then we’ll win. It won’t happen if we don’t try. Now on the other hand, even if we do everything we can, it might not work out. You can’t control that. All you can control is yourself, Harry, and becoming a good, kind person who fights for what you believe.”

            Harry swallowed hard. “You think?” he said weakly.

            “Yes,” Sirius replied definitively. He had a lot of time to think in Azkaban, and after all those years, this was the manner in how he wanted to view his life. Maybe it was wrong, but it sure as hell helped.

            “I’m still worried, Sirius.”

            “I am too.”

            Harry was quiet, his hands gripping the armchair. “But what about me?” Harry whispered, his voice barely carrying across the room.

            Sirius stared directly into Harry’s brilliant eyes. “What about you? Your parents would be so incredibly proud of who you’ve become, and you should too. _I’m_ incredibly proud of you.”

            Harry twisted his hands in his lap. “Thank you, Sirius.”

            Sirius sat thinking for a moment. “Hey, do you know of a book called _Lord of the Rings?”_

            “It’s by JR Tolkien right?”

            “Yeah,” Sirius grinned. He stood up to and walked over to his bookcase. “You’ve ever read them?”                 

            Harry shook his head.

            Sirius scanned his collection of books until he fell upon _The Fellowship of the Ring._ “I think you’ll like it. It’s about people who are in a similar situation like us, but with more elves and hobbits and magic rings. They have to overcome an evil force but in the form of a giant glowing red eye.”

             “I didn’t know you liked to read.”

            “It was my act of teenage rebellion. I would leave all these dreaded muggle novels around the house to annoy my mother, and at one point or another, I picked one up and found I couldn’t stop.”

            Harry smiled. “That’s a bit unusual.”

            Sirius laughed. “Your dad thought it was ridiculous and told me I needed to start snorting cocaine to balance it out.”

            Harry brightened at the mention of James, and Sirius felt a pang of guilt. He handed the book to Harry who traced the cover.

            “Let me know if you like it,” Sirius continued. “There’s two more after that one.”

            Harry offered a small smile. “Hermione’s probably read it.”

            “What hasn’t that girl read?”

            Harry stood up. “Sorry to bother you, Sirius. I just couldn’t sleep.”

            Before Harry could move away, Sirius pulled him into a hug. Harry settled against him, and Sirius held him tightly.

            “You’re never bothering me. I’m always here for you, Harry, if you need anything, anything at all. Life played you a hard hand, and it sucks. But you have so many people who care about you, and you don’t have to do this alone.”

            Harry shook against him. “Thank you, Sirius,” he repeated, and they remained in the hug until Harry pulled away. “Should probably get to sleep.”

            Sirius smiled and nodded, watching as Harry left.  It hurt to see Harry so frightened, but it hurt him more to realize he could do nothing about it. He was a useless pawn in this game while Harry was the key player, and he wanted more than anything to trade places to relieve Harry of the burden.

            After a moment, Severus reentered the room. He stood silently, waiting for Sirius to speak.

            “You think we’re going to win this war?” he finally asked, and Severus blinked at the somberness of his voice. He took a minute before replying.

            “I…yes, but I think many of us will die along the way.”

            “That’s morbid,” Sirius muttered. “Who do you think won’t make it?”

            “Me,” Severus began, and Sirius’s blood ran cold. “Moody. Kingsley. You. Lupin. Minerva. Ron Weasley. Maybe more, I don’t know. It’s only guesses.”

            “Ron?” Sirius asked weakly.

            “He’ll sacrifice himself for Potter.”

            “You?”

            “I don’t exactly have the safest job, Sirius.”

            “Me?”

            “You’ll also sacrifice yourself for Potter.”

            “Yeah, I would.”

            Severus nodded, his lips pressed thin.

            “It’ll be worth it though, in the end. When he falls.”

            “Yes, it will.”

            “That’s how you get through all the shit he does to you, right?”

            “It’s for the greater good,” Severus responded sourly. “If what I do now enables Potter to win later, then it will all be worth it.”

            “Even if you die along the way?”           

            “Yes.”

            Sirius paused, considering his next question. Invasive? Yes. He didn’t give a fuck.

            “You’re suicidal, aren’t you? Or at least you used to be.”

            Severus took a long moment to respond. “Yes. Used to be.”

            “You actually try to kill yourself?” Sirius pressured.

            “Yes,” Severus replied bluntly. The confession was almost shocking, but Sirius had expected it. It had been a thought festering in the back of his mind, and he needed to voice it. Sirius waited for him to elaborate, and he could tell he was being cruel. However, all this talk of death and war stripped him of empathy. “Several times when I was sixteen. Also tried when I was twenty-two. Never worked.”

            “Guess you’re just really bad at killing yourself?”

            “Yes. I am.”

            “And now?”

            “I’m still just as bad at killing myself,” Severus responded.

            “No. You still want to die?”

            Severus fell silent again. “I have little sense of self-preservation and I don’t think I would oppose death, but I don’t actively seek it. I have reasons to live.”

            Sirius let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t I know that all too well.”

            “Are you finished with this line of questioning?” Severus snapped, and Sirius glanced over at him.

            “You don’t care if you die in this war,” he stated.

            “Not particularly.”

            “I…why?”  

            “Why?” Severus snarled, and Sirius was surprised at the venom in his voice. “Maybe I’ll finally find some fucking peace.”

            “People would miss you,” Sirius replied impulsively.

            “Like who?”

            “Albus would. And Minerva and Molly.”

            “Three people then?”

            “And me. I would miss you,” Sirius confessed, and he could sense the thoughts racing through Severus’s head.

            “Black, if you have something to say…”

            Sirius sighed. He had plenty to say, but it would be too much for tonight. Also, he couldn’t approach it with Severus so defensive. No, it was best saved for another time.

            “Not tonight. And sorry about this. I’m not in the best of moods if you couldn’t tell, and it was shitty of me to ask you that stuff.”

            “Fine,” Severus muttered. “Well, now you know. Now if you don’t mind, I would like to sleep.” He moved to the bed and climbed in on the far side. Sirius sighed. It was almost like a lover’s spat, and if they weren’t so insistent on sharing a bed, he would be designated to the couch. As he rightfully should be.

            Now, instead, he would have lie on the far end of the bed and hope for some sleep to sort out the mess in his head.

* * *

 

            Sirius woke up to an empty bed, and he sighed in frustration. It was easier to make up after fights in the early morning than letting it linger all day. Unfortunately, Severus appeared to want to delay the inevitable.

            Sirius wasn’t surprised to hear that Severus had been suicidal. If half the shit Severus went through had happened to him, he would have slit his wrists years ago. In Azkaban, he had gotten close several times, but his desire to punch Pettigrew in his ugly face and get his well-earned revenge prevented him from actually following through.

            What angered him was how flippantly Severus treated his life. If Sirius had to die, he would do so with as much fight as possible, but Severus sounded resigned. He was a man counting down the days until the curtains closed. Even if Sirius wasn’t so heavily invested in the man, he couldn’t ignore how fucked up that was.

            He didn’t know if he could broach the topic again. Last night’s conversation went badly enough, and he doubted Severus wanted to delve into it. Knowing him, however, it would come out at some point.

            Until then, he would just have to wait.

            He rose out of bed and headed downstairs. The day passed with relative ease, and before he knew it, night had snuck out of its trenches and overtaken the day.

            He retreated to his bedroom and waited for Severus to show. Sirius picked up a book to read while he waited, a novel by Donna Tartt titled _The Secret History_. He measured the time in pages, and as he struck the 150th page, he admitted to himself that Severus wasn’t coming.

            “Fuck,” he whispered to himself. He didn’t know if this was due to the fight or to Voldemort, but he really didn’t want to spend tonight anxious and alone.

            He certainly wouldn’t be able to spend tonight sober, so with a wince, he grabbed whiskey from the drawer and poured himself a hefty glass. At best, he would drink himself into a slumber and by the time he awoke, Severus would be back.

            If not…the hours stretched in front of him for miles and his legs itched like ants under his skin.

            He downed the glass, poured another, tried to refocus on the book, and let the hours slip by.

            At one point or another, he must have dozed off. When he awoke, it was nearing morning, and there was still no sign of Severus. Concern twisted in his stomach, and he let out a string of curses. He wished he could storm off to Hogwarts, and his helplessness frustrated him. He threw the glass against the wall, taking pleasure in watching it shatter and prepared for another long day.

            The day lingered, fighting against the night with every breath in its body. If it wasn’t for Harry and Remus, Sirius wasn’t so sure he would have made it, and he could feel the initial tendrils of a panic attack snaking around him. He needed Severus to be there for him tonight and he walked to his room in uneasy anticipation.

            He paused at the door, wishing desperately to open it and see Severus’s ugly mug frowning back at him. The need of it startled him.

            Unable to stand it anymore, he threw open the door and was met with…nothing. The room was unchanged, and the hollowness cut into Sirius.

            He fingered the necklace around his neck nervously. It was his insurance and reassurance. As long as he had this, Severus would return to him.

            Unless if Voldemort had done something truly terrible to him. Severus said their meetings never lasted longer than a night, but then again, could anyone predict Voldemort’s actions?

            As he stood there, a terrible thought struck Sirius. He could envision it perfectly: Severus naked and bruised handcuffed to a bed while Voldemort smiled down at him and traced a cold finger down the lines of Severus’s chest. The thought made him sick, and he stumbled into the room.

            He started pacing to drive the thought out of his head and curb the growing anxiety. If only Severus had sent a sign or some indication of his wellbeing. Then Sirius wouldn’t feel like an iron band was clenching his chest. 

            He considered turning into Padfoot where his emotions distilled and simplified. It would be like Azkaban again, but it would make things easier. He didn’t know if he could make it through another night like this alone.

            He continued to pace as the anxiety expanded inside of him like sticky tar. It clogged up his lungs and sped up his heart and pulled at his limbs.

            He didn’t hear the knock at first, but when he did, he rushed towards the door. He threw it open, grateful for a distraction, and stared into the somber face of Albus.

            He could feel his hopes falling from him like broken constellations. Questions thrummed through his mind about Severus while panic electrified him.

            “Come in,” he stuttered, and Albus entered the room.

            “Are you okay?” Albus asked concerned. Sirius could usually disguise his panic better, but he feared for Severus. Had Voldemort hurt him badly? Had he killed him?

            “Severus,” he forced out, frightened of the response.

            Albus looked like he wanted to comment more on Sirius’s wellbeing but noting Sirius’s impatience addressed the issue directly. “He’s okay, Sirius, but he needed me to talk with you.”

            “Fuck,” Sirius whispered. “It’s over, isn’t it? He wants to end it.”

            Albus shook his head. “No, not at all.”

            Sirius wanted to be embarrassed at how much relief that statement caused him.

            “Then what’s wrong? Where is he?”

            “Voldemort has sent him on a diplomatic mission to the vampire coven located on the Orkney Islands of Scotland. He is tasked with recruiting them to the Death Eater’s cause. He came to me last night with the details and wanted me to inform you that he won’t be back for another two weeks at least.”

            “Jesus,” Sirius muttered. “Two weeks?”

            “He’ll be back as soon as he can, Sirius.”

            “Is this normal? For Sev to be sent on a mission like this?”

            Albus nodded grimly. “Severus has informed me that several other Death Eaters have been sent on extended missions to recruit. Unfortunately, it happens to be Severus’s turn.”

            “Will you hear anything from him when’s away?”

            “No,” Albus sighed. “He said it would be too dangerous. We’re both in the dark and can only hope for a swift return.”

            Sirius ran a hand through his hair as anxiety burned in his stomach. He thought two days had been bad, but this would be for two full fucking weeks.

            A thought struck Sirius. “How will you know if he’s hurt then? Or if he’s…?”

            “We have an emergency message that Severus will send if he sees no way out. Other than that, we have to put our faith in him.”

            Sirius clenched his eyes shut. “Ok,” he repeated. “Ok.”

            “He’ll be okay,” Albus consoled. “You know how he is.”

            Sirius nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

            Albus regarded him. “Do you want me to stay for a while, Sirius?”

            “No, it’s okay,” Sirius said even though it wasn’t okay. “I need some time to think this through.”

            Albus looked at him sadly. “He’ll be back to you as soon as he can. Until then we have to trust in him and continue on as best as we can.”

            “I know,” Sirius swallowed thickly. He had nothing else to say, and Albus realized this and took his leave. When the door shut, Sirius sat heavily on the bed and stared at the floor. A headache built in his temples and worries threatened to tear him apart, so before he could think too much into it, he embraced Padfoot and allowed the worries to melt into a vague concern. He would spend two weeks as a dog, if he had too. Only so that he didn’t have to admit how much he cared for Severus and how it would devastate him to never see the man again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for making it to the end of another chapter! 
> 
> I love reading all the comments, so thank you for that too :) 
> 
> Also - just finished Mindhunter, so if you need a show to watch, definitely recommend, the atmosphere and tension in the show is very well done (and the serial killers are fascinating if macabre).


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